An Astronaut's Wife
by kahhtina
Summary: When her husband is accepted as one of the seven men chosen to be part of NASA's first space program, Project Mercury, Mary Crawley must let him back into her life and the lives of their children. Feeling the sting of rejection as a pilot, Mary is forced to come to terms with her husband's rising career while dealing with her own place in the spotlight as an astronaut's wife.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, friends! I recently started watching ABC's "Astronaut Wives Club" and was hit with this fantastic idea for a new MM AU. This story will follow Matthew as an astronaut for NASA's Project Mercury, with Mary as his wife, and is loosely based off of the lives of Gordon and Trudy Cooper, along with the events experienced by the program's other astronauts and their wives. But I won't follow all their stories exactly, just the main events of the Mercury program and the 1960s U.S. Warning, this story will be quite angsty, but it should be a lot of fun, too!_

 _Many thanks to **hartnellss** for reading through the first half of this chapter for me and encouraging me to post it and write more._

 _Any Downton quotes used will be italicized._

 _I hope you enjoy this!_

* * *

 **Chapter One**

 _Late March, 1959_

"Mary, I've been accepted into the Mercury program."

She didn't respond right away, or couldn't, her teeth clenched as she gripped the phone tighter.

"Mary?"

Releasing ragged breath, she forced herself to reply.

"Is this a joke?"

On the other end of the phone, her husband scoffed, clearly annoyed by her response.

"Oh, my God," Matthew retorted. "I tell you that I'm going into space and _you_ ask if it's a joke? Jesus."

"Sorry," she spat back with sarcasm as anger and jealousy flooded through her. "It's a little difficult to be excited for you when I'm five hundred miles away, working my ass off and raising _our_ children. I just got off an eight-hour shift of mindless clerical work and you want me to leap with joy at your news? When you know I'm just as qualified as you are for that program? I had more flying hours than you when you became a damn test pilot, but because I'm a woman I'd never be accepted into a program."

She almost slammed the phone down in her anger. _What does he even want from me?_

"God, it's pointless to talk to you," Matthew said. "You always make everything about you."

"Why the hell did you call, then?" she asked, heated.

He sighed into the phone.

"You're going to say 'no'," he muttered.

"Then tell me what it is so I can," Mary replied, voice hard.

"NASA wants all the wives to come to Langley."

"What?" she questioned, forced to pull a chair out from the kitchen table and sit down. She pressed her fingers to her forehead. "Now, this is definitely a joke."

" _LIFE_ magazine is doing a story on all the astronauts and their families. NASA wants the wives and kids to come out, spend a week at the center, see the facility," he told her.

Mary sat there in silence for a few moments, hardly believing she was so close to being at a NASA facility. But for _him_?

"They want... _us_...at Langley?" she finally asked slowly.

"Isn't that what I just said? Yes, you, the kids...with me," Matthew replied.

"Holy shit," Mary breathed into the receiver. She hated that he laughed at this. "What the-"

"It wasn't my idea," was his reply. "I even tried to put up a fight, but the other guys think it's a great idea."

"The hell do they think they're going to get, Matthew? We haven't lived together in over a year. I just got the divorce papers in the mail today. Does _LIFE_ want to know about that, too?" Mary asked, her eyes flitting to the large envelope on the kitchen counter. She felt as though a rock had settled in her stomach.

"I know, I know, that's why I tried to say 'no'," he said with a groan. "All they want is a good story. To hear about the astronauts and their happy families."

"You might as well hire someone to play me," Mary told him with a scoff. "And the kids, they wouldn't come without me, you know. It's not as though you've seen them since Christmas. A happy family?" Now it was her turn to laugh.

"I know they won't. God, but you're so stubborn," Matthew sighed and Mary could sense he was raking a hand through his hair, his standard tick when she irritated him. "Jesus, think about someone other than yourself. Maybe this is the best chance for _me_ , Mary."

Her pride stung a little at his jab.

"What would happen if I refused?" she asked carefully.

"I talked to our supervisor at the agency and it could jeopardize my chance of being selected for a launch," he said.

"Why would that matter? I'm sure not all the other men have happy marriages," she retorted.

"NASA needs public support on this, government support. They want to show the country that their astronauts are living the American Dream, Mary," Matthew replied. "Pretty wife, cute kids, a perfect family."

"We're certainly not that," she said, rather wistfully. While she hadn't lived with her husband in nearly a year, his career and her dreams had caused tension in their marriage long before that. "God, this sounds like a nightmare."

"I've been assured that the agency and _LIFE_ will make it worth our while," he said. "I know it's not what you want, but I have the chance to be a part of something really spectacular, Mary. And we can finally stick it to the Soviets."

"Are you going to knock _Sputnik_ out of the sky?" she countered with a laugh in spite of herself.

"I'll never get the chance if you don't agree."

She paused, wishing it was her chance to make it to space. Her dream.

"Fine," she said after a moment. "But after this is all over, you're going to sign the divorce papers."

He didn't say anything.

"Matthew?" she questioned, wondering if the line had cut out.

"It might have to last longer than a week," he finally said.

Mary hung up the phone.

* * *

 _April 8, 1959_

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Mary watched as George and Susan converged on their father in the airport terminal, the six-year-old boy's arms hooking around his father's legs while the four-year-old girl was lifted off her feet by Matthew.

"Hey there, peanut," Matthew said, kissing Susan's cheek while he ruffled George's hair. "You miss me?"

His eyes flicked to Mary, whose expression remained indifferent as she crossed her arms.

"Yes, Daddy!" George said. "Susie's not as good at football," the boy complained.

Matthew laughed, setting Susan on her feet before crouching down next to George.

"Did you bring your ball with you?" Matthew asked.

George nodded enthusiastically and Matthew gave the boy a hug before getting to his feet, his eyes uncertain as he looked at Mary.

"How was the flight?" he questioned.

"A bore," she replied and he snorted.

"Did you try to get into the cockpit?"

Mary's expression hardened. " _I wouldn't want to push in_ ," was her short reply.

"No, of course not," he agreed, raising his eyebrows knowingly.

"Kids, let's go get our luggage. George, hold your sister's hand," Mary instructed, pushing past Matthew to head for baggage claim. She took George's hand as he linked hands with his sister.

Matthew easily fell into step beside her.

"There are cameras outside," he said in an undertone, causing Mary to stop abruptly.

"What?" she asked, indignant.

"Cameras. Reporters for newspapers. They found out when you were landing," Matthew replied.

"And how did they find that out?"

Matthew lifted one eyebrow. "You know."

"Oh, God," Mary muttered, starting for baggage claim again. "NASA told them. Told them when we'd _all_ be getting here?"

"Still quick," Matthew interjected.

"I thought we'd have a day to adjust to this whole charade," she complained, ignoring his previous comment. "We're starting right out of the gate."

"I'm sorry."

Mary looked at him, really looked at him for the first time that day, surprised by his admission.

"That's the first time you've apologized for this whole damn thing," she said as they reached baggage claim. "What are you sorry for? That I have to be here, too?"

"That you were blindsided with this," he said, not refuting her. "If I had found out sooner, I would have warned you."

She turned away, searching for their bags on the conveyor belt, but Matthew found them first. He picked them up and set them upright.

"Now we have to pretend," Mary said, watching as Matthew lifted both bags off the ground.

He looked at her and sighed. "You do."

Her eyebrows knit together. "Should I ask what you mean?" she questioned, pursing her lips.

"Why do you think it took so long for our lawyer to send you the divorce papers?" he asked, starting to carry the suitcase toward the exit. This forced Mary to follow after him, urging the children along at her side.

"Because he's a lazy ass who wants to make as much money as he can doing as little work as possible," was her retort.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Because I hadn't asked for them," he said, halting suddenly.

"Oh, my God!" Mary shot back. "You did that? Why?"

"Why do you think, Mary?" Matthew asked, making a move toward the exit again. "God."

Mary grabbed his arm with her free hand. "What in the hell, Matthew Crawley?"

"Darling, you're going to make a scene," he said, to which she growled in response.

"Fine," she said, releasing her grip on his arm. "But just because there is a swarm of reporters outside, don't think that this discussion is over."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," he replied, taking her hand as he pulled her toward the doors. "And remember to smile."

Mary forced herself not to punch him as they stepped outside. Instead, she plastered a smile to her face, releasing George's hand for a brief moment to cover her eyes with sunglasses. At least that would help disguise her tension from their photo op.

The sound of hundreds of camera shutters snapping at the same time nearly drowned out the questions immediately hurled at them as Matthew led them to the waiting car. Most of the questions were directed at her.

"Captain Crawley! Are you happy to have your family here?"

"Mrs. Crawley! How old are your children?"

"Mrs. Crawley! Have you ever been to Virginia before?"

"Mrs. Crawley! What's your favorite pie recipe?"

Luckily, Matthew tried to hurry them into the car, George and Susan climbing into the backseat while Mary attempted to move to the passenger side as he loaded their luggage into the trunk. But she was blocked by a reporter.

"Mrs. Crawley, what do you think of your husband's acceptance into the Mercury program?"

Mary kept her smile plastered on as the man held a tape recorder in her face, shooting a glance at Matthew, who quickly shut the trunk. His own face wore an identical grin.

"When I found out, I said, 'Who better'?" she answered, prompting a laugh from the reporters as Matthew came to her side. _What a load of baloney_ , she thought.

"C'mon now, folks, the little lady's had a long day," Matthew countered with a laugh, wrapping an arm around Mary's shoulders. _Little lady?_ Mary scoffed internally.

"A kiss for the camera, Captain?" another reporter asked.

Mary turned her head and saw Matthew's eyes widen for a split-second before he turned to her. She was glad he couldn't see the annoyance in her own eyes as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. But her annoyance soon turned to surprise, which was squarely aimed at herself. She was surprised that she didn't want to pull away.

Matthew ended the kiss and Mary forced another smile, her irritation returning in full-force.

"Now I've got to get them to the hotel," he told the reporters with a grin, opening the passenger-side door for Mary. She slid into the car, grateful that it was over.

She turned to George and Susan, both who were pressed against the back window as they watched the reporters.

"Sit forward in your seats," Mary told them as Matthew slipped into the driver's seat and started the car's engine. "Thank God that's over," she sighed.

"It's only the beginning," Matthew reminded her, peeling away from the curb.

Mary's sunglasses obscured her eye roll.

* * *

She lay on the bed in Matthew's hotel room which they were forced to share for the week in spite of her protests, flipping through a magazine as she tired herself before bed. The kids were already asleep in the front room, sharing the pull-out sofa, but Matthew hadn't returned from the research center yet. He'd claimed that it was for a debriefing on the events for the following morning, which would include a press conference for the men to be introduced to the public, a luncheon for the families, and later a variety of photo ops featuring the astronauts and their wives and children. A cocktail party would wrap up the adults' evening.

Considering the lateness of the hour, Mary figured the men were out at some bar, talking up women who were _not_ their wives. She could only guess what Matthew had been up to for the past year. Without his wife and children around, she was sure there wasn't much keeping him from working his way through the Air Force base's population of available women. Not that there hadn't been any incidents before that...

Mary propped herself up on her hand. Through the ajar bedroom door, she heard the front door open and shut, causing her head to turn. She sat up on the bed, closing the magazine as she waited for Matthew to enter the bedroom.

"Daddy?"

It was Susan's voice.

"Shh, go back to sleep, peanut," Matthew said gently. Mary listened as he sat on the pull-out sofa, the springs groaning under his weight.

"I missed you, Daddy," Susan said. Mary heard the sad note in their daughter's voice, causing her own heart to ache.

"I've missed you, too, peanut," he replied, pressing a kiss to the little girl's face. "Now go to sleep, alright?"

"Okay, Daddy," Susan murmured sleepily. "I love you."

"I love you, too, my angel," Matthew said.

Mary pressed her lips together, willing herself not to cry. She wished that Susan and George could grow up with their father around, but she knew that couldn't be. They had too many problems, too much pain for it to be resolved.

As Matthew, pushed open the bedroom door, Mary opened the magazine again, flipping through it haphazardly as he shut the door at his back.

"I didn't think you'd wait up," he said, drawing Mary's eyes up.

"It's not that late," she said, ignoring the alarm clock on the dresser that read one-thirty. "The plane ride must have messed up my sleep pattern," she amended.

"Mmm," was all Matthew said as he crossed to the dresser, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked. "The press conference is at noon," he told her, rifling through one of the drawers to pull out a pair of pajamas. "They wanted it to be late enough for it to be broadcast live on the West Coast."

"When do they think we eat lunch? During dinnertime?" Mary scoffed, averting her eyes as he undressed. "Do you have to do that out here?" she questioned.

"It's my room," Matthew said, turning to her.

Mary looked up and immediately regretted it, as her husband now stood there in only his underwear. She looked away, hating the heat that rose in her face.

"God, you're an ass," she muttered, climbing off the bed and stomping into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

A minute later, Matthew had followed her, thankfully dressed in his pajamas now.

"I think you'll really like the other wives," he said conversationally as he reached for his own toothbrush. "John's wife, Anna, makes a delicious bundt cake, apparently. And Tom's wife, Sybil, she-"

Mary spit the toothpaste out of her mouth.

"Why the hell are you telling me this?" she asked in irritation, frowning at him in the mirror.

"I thought you'd want to know," Matthew countered after spitting into the sink. "God, sorry for trying to help you prepare for tomorrow."

He stalked out of the bathroom and Mary followed him as he pulled back the comforter on the mattress.

"What are you doing?" she asked, standing near the foot of the bed.

Matthew stopped and stood by the bed, confused annoyance on his face.

"Going to sleep," he said, motioning to the bed.

"Not there," Mary said firmly. Even though she had just seen him in his underwear and she was having difficulty refusing him.

Matthew raised his hands, questioning. "Where am I supposed to sleep? In the bathtub?"

Mary lifted her eyebrows and Matthew looked irrate.

"You're serious?" he asked. "I have a press conference tomorrow, we have to pretend to be happily married, and you want me to sleep in the goddamned tub?"

"I don't know why you would expect anything different, Matthew," Mary retorted, her own anger rising. "You haven't seen me, seen us, in four months and you expect to share a bed with me?"

"I never wanted to leave!" he burst out.

Mary's jaw slackened and she leaned away as she struggled to find a response.

"I didn't want to go," Matthew added, approaching her with outstretched hands. He didn't touch her, but he was much closer than Mary had anticipated. Her mind was foggy, like warm moisture beading on a cold window and making it impossible to see.

"No one ever leaves if they don't want to," she said after a moment, questioning her own words even as she spoke them.

"That's bullshit," he sprouted back. "You, yes, _you_ , Mary Crawley, pushed me away over and over again. You're the one who told me to go, practically begged me after I received my promotion. You just couldn't take it that I'd been accepted as a test pilot instead of you. That I'd been recognized for _my_ achievements."

"How dare you say that!" Mary said as Matthew snorted in reply. "I might have been angry that I'd been passed over for the fourth time for a spot at the Air Force base, but don't you dare pretend that I was nothing but proud of you."

Matthew scoffed. "Proud? How do you figure that, Mary? Was it the way you stopped looking me in the eye after I was accepted into the program? Or when you packed all my clothes and left them in the garage with a note that said 'Leave'?"

Mary glared at him, his words stinging. Yes, she'd done all those things, but she vividly remembered his own behavior in the months leading up to his final exodus. The way he only talked about himself, never asked about her day, acted as though she should worship the ground he walked on. It was enough to make any woman snap.

"Why did it take you so long to call the lawyer?" she questioned.

"Jesus," Matthew sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I didn't want to do this right now."

"You started it," she said halfheartedly, frustrated that this conversation was happening, that she was even there at all.

She'd gotten so used to never seeing him, to hardly talking to him except when he called for George and Susan once a week, their conversations short and meaningless. His visit at Christmas had been bad enough, as they'd had an argument after the kids were in bed on Christmas Eve, one so bad that Mary had become even more adamant about the divorce.

"I didn't want it to be real," Matthew admitted, his eyes softening minutely in the light from the bedside lamp. "If we filed those papers, then it would be over. Our family. Us."

"What did you think was going to happen?" Mary asked, ignoring the ache in her chest as she fought the urge to touch him, to be held in his arms like she used to. To feel safe and loved.

He shook his head, at a loss.

"I don't know," he sighed. "I thought when I came at Christmas that we would talk and you would see that I didn't want it to be like this, that we could be a proper family again. But we had that damn fight and I knew you were determined to be rid of me. Until now."

She bit the inside of her lip, her throat dry.

"This is what makes sense. For now," she added, stepping away from him toward the opposite side of the bed. "Don't start thinking you can change my mind."

Out of the corner of her eye, Mary saw Matthew smile. The sight irritated her, but made her heart leap at the same time, a stupid and confusing mix of her emotions.

"I wouldn't dream that anything I could say would have such an impact," he said, sarcasm returning steadily.

"Get some rest," she said, grabbing one of the pillows and throwing it at him as hard as she could.

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed, giving her a salute before retrieving the spare blanket from the end of the bed.

Matthew disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the door open behind him. Mary was tempted to shut it, but refrained, instead crawling under the comforter before turning out the bedside light.

She lay in the darkness, listening in silence as her husband situated himself in the bathtub. The minutes passed and Mary heard the sound of his soft snores reverberate off the bathroom walls, the familiarity of the noise bringing unwanted tears to her eyes. She sniffed and shut her eyes, hoping sleep would claim her soon.

 ** _Thoughts?_**


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello again, lovely readers! I first just want to say thank you for all your encouragement and reviewing so far. It's wonderful when people want to read the things you write and it's even better to hear from them. So thanks!_

 _And thanks for reading if angst isn't your favorite, but it's going to be that way for a while. Just trust me!_

 _I do want to clear a few things up for you all to hopefully help you enjoy the story more. Mary and Matthew's story in this is based off of real life astronaut couple Gordon and Trudy Cooper, as Gordon was a part of the Mercury Seven. Trudy Cooper was in fact the only astronaut's wife to have her pilot's license, which I have given Mary in this. At the time of Project Mercury (and in later programs) NASA insisted that all astronauts accepted for programs be test pilots and being a military test pilot is different from just having your commercial pilot's license, which the military did not allow women to get as of the early 1960s. This disqualifies women from applying to become astronauts in the American space program._

 _I also forgot to say that I hope to post updates once a week, probably on Saturday evenings (I know the first chapter was a Sunday, but I do what I want). If I need to make some adjustments, I'll try to say so at the beginning of subsequent chapters._

 _Thank you again for reading and I hope you enjoy this next installment!_

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

 _April 9, 1959_

"Mrs. Crawley! Gosh, it's so great to finally meet you!"

Mary forced a smile, the first in a long line of many that she would have that day. A tiny woman had bounded up to her on the sidewalk, her blonde hair in a brushed under bob without a strand out of place despite the breeze.

They had just arrived at Langley Research Center, the men's press conference half an hour away. Matthew had told her to arrive early for a meet and greet with the wives, but she'd ignored him, hoping to spend as little time under the public eye as possible. Luckily, there were no cameras at the entrance, as the press had been shut out until the time of the press conference.

"Um, hello," Mary said, confused, as she looked from the woman to her two daughters, who both looked a few years older than George.

"Oh, sorry, you must not know me from Eve," the woman said cheerfully with a giggle. "I'm Anna. Anna Bates. Captain Bates is my husband."

"Yes, yes of course," Mary said as George careened past them, kicking his ball around and nearly hitting one of the Bates girls. She vaguely remembered the name 'Bates' from a list she'd received from NASA when they'd arrived yesterday. She'd barely skimmed over it, but had seen it included short bios for each family.

"George, stop that!" Mary scolded, picking up the ball and tossing it in the car, to her son's irritation.

"Don't worry about it," Anna said, extremely chipper. "Little boys, you know."

Mary nodded, feeling self-conscious all the same.

"We thought we'd be the only late ones," Anna said. "Cassandra packed the wrong dress and got a bit upset about it." She motioned to the taller girl, who looked rather glum in her pink frock.

"Well, may I just say it's about the prettiest dress I've seen, Cassandra," Mary said, finding it easy to be nice to the girl. She got a smile in response.

"Gosh, I just feel like I know so much about you already," Anna said as they made their way towards the entrance, Susan's small hand gripping Mary's as tight as she could.

Mary was taken aback by this statement, but she tried not to show it.

"Oh, really?" she asked, trying to seem interested, but was a little annoyed.

"Of course! My John's told me everything that's been happening during the testing. Their routine, the tests, everything! John's heard about you from Matthew, naturally," Anna gushed. "And then the list that the agency sent over really helped fill in a few gaps."

Mary forced a laugh, trying not to look cross, hiding the annoyance she felt. And a little bit of jealousy. She'd never bothered to ask Matthew about the tests, although she'd read enough about them in the paper to know she wished it was her.

"I'm sure he's just been building me up after being away for so long," she said. "You know men. Think you're an angel when they're far away, but when they get home, all they do is watch television."

"I'm sure that's not true, although I was sure surprised how much I missed John this past month. Clearly, your husband's been lost without ya," Anna said with a kind smile.

But Mary felt as though her intestines had been filled with lead. She kept her smile in place all the same in spite of the feat that such an expression really was. She was surprised Matthew had bothered to tell any of the other men about her at all, he was usually so good at only talking about himself.

"You know anyone else on the list? I noticed a few of the men were Air Force," Anna commented as they made their way into the building.

"Just the Aldridges," Mary said. "Atticus and Matthew were both at Edwards together, although I can't say I know very them well."

Mary actually wished they'd known her _less_ well. She was sure Matthew had confided in Atticus about Mary wanting a divorce, for the last time she saw Rose she could just tell the other woman didn't approve, even if she never said anything.

When they'd found the conference room, he seven men stood around the front, talking with one another, laughing comfortably, while the wives sat to one side, their kids surrounding them. Mary sighted Matthew, who had his back to them, wishing she had the option to leave right then. God, even the back of his head was infuriating.

"Daddy!" Susan said excitedly, breaking away from Mary's grasp before she could stop her.

"Susan," Mary said in an attempt to stop the little girl as she headed for her father. "George go sit with the others," she told the boy, who frowned glumly but stalked off after the Bates, clearly still upset about his football.

Matthew turned from the group at the sound of Mary's voice, a grin spreading across his face as he saw Susan running toward him.

"Hi, peanut," Matthew said, scooping Susan off the floor and into his arms. "Don't you look as pretty as a picture?"

"Daddy, this place is huge!" Susan said, looking around in awe as her arms circled around his neck, tight. "Are you really gonna be an astronaut?"

"Yes, ma'am," Matthew said, kissing the little girl's forehead as Mary approached. "Hey, baby," he said to her and Mary gave him a quick smile, although she knew her eyes were hard. He hadn't used that pet name for her in over a year, maybe longer, and it was unnerving to hear it again.

"Sorry, she got away from me," she told him, to which Matthew shrugged.

"No worries," he said, moving closer as he tried to give her a kiss. "For the others," he whispered when Mary had pulled back.

Releasing a sigh, she offered Matthew her cheek instead, which he lightly pressed his lips to.

"Not so hard, is it?" he asked in an undertone as he pulled away, flashing her another smile.

"Captain Crawley, we're about to let the press in," a man said, appearing nearby, as he'd already ushered the other men to their seats. "Mrs. Crawley, if you could go sit with the other ladies."

"Of course," Mary said, attempting to be the epitome of poise. "Knock 'em dead, honey bear."

Matthew winked at her, at ease while Mary felt herself come even more unraveled. He passed Susan over to Mary, giving the little girl's cheek a gentle squeeze before turning to take his spot at the table. Susan kept her eyes on her father as they approached the other wives, George already seated by Anna Bates. Mary sighted Rose Aldridge, who gave her a smile that Mary tried to return.

"Hi again," Anna said, giving her a grin. "Captain Crawley is certainly spirited. I thought John was exaggerating."

"He is that," Mary agreed, turning her attention to the main doors as they opened and a herd of reporters entered, rivaling the one that had met them at the airport the day before. Cameras began going off immediately, some focused on the men, while the majority of them were fixed on the ladies. NASA officials attempted to stop them, but after a few moments it was all a loss until the film crew began rolling.

"Why is the world so interested in us, anyway?" Mary asked, stroking Susan's back as she sat on Mary's lap.

One of the women seated behind her leaned forward, dark haired and blue-eyed.

"Because we're the wives of our country's first astronauts," she said. "The more they know about us, the more they know about them."

* * *

Mary was so tired of the photographers. She could hardly see anymore from all the camera flashes, her head was aching from it. And their incessant questions for the men that had eaten up most of the afternoon. Not that the cameras had stopped during their lunch. She wasn't sure how many good photos they could get of thirty people stuffing their faces with food, but they tried all the same.

Now, with the evening in full swing for the cocktail party, she approached the bar, leaning against the wood.

"Gin and tonic," she requested as she looked around the room.

Four of the wives stood together, talking as they too observed the scene. Their husbands had been whisked away upon arrival to the party, for some secret discussion the women weren't yet privy to. Mary hated how much she was dying to know about the program, that she'd practically eaten every word up at the press conference. Men going into space? It was almost too good to be true, and so much more real than the newspapers made it feel. But she knew she would never get to go as long as NASA insisted that astronauts be military test pilots and as long as the military refused to accept women applicants.

Her four failed attempts proved that.

"Mrs. Crawley, I love your dress."

It was Lavinia Napier, a sweet-faced blonde with a passion for brightly colored clothing. It was obvious that Lavinia was happily married to her husband, Lieutenant Evelyn Napier, for they never stopped smiling when they were around one another. Mary wondered how obvious her own unhappy marriage was to the other couples.

Judging by some of the glances she'd been getting, it was fairly obvious.

"Thank you," Mary said, surprised her pale gold dress was getting any attention. "And please, call me Mary."

"Oh, sure thing, as long as you call me Lavinia," she replied cheerfully, ordering a drink for herself. "God, isn't this whole thing just a blast? Pun intended." She laughed. "I could get used to such a life."

Mary smiled, doubting her response would be a sincere agreement. She couldn't wait to be out of there.

"Where did you live before this?" she asked instead.

"Oh, all over," Lavinia said, gesturing before picking up her drink. "After completing his training as a Navy test pilot in Maryland, we moved to Monterey, that's in California. I guess I'll head back there with the kids once they send us away." Lavinia sighed wistfully and Mary saw that she really didn't want to go. "What about you?"

Mary took a sip of her drink, trying not to down the whole glass in one gulp.

"In Ohio," Mary said, hoping Lavinia's knowledge of Matthew's career was less perfect than Anna's had seemed to be. "In Dayton."

"I thought Captain Crawley completed his test pilot training at Edwards Air Field in California?" Lavinia asked. "Rose was just tellin' me about it."

Mary's neck felt uncomfortably warm. _Dammit_.

"He did," she said, hoping she looked at ease, but feeling unequal to the task. "My parents live near Dayton, so it was easier for us to be near them when he was studying at the Air Force Institute of Technology for a few years. When Matthew became a test pilot at Edwards, well, he visited so often it hardly felt like he was gone."

Lavinia smiled. "Your husband must have some sort of superhuman ability to recover from such frequent flying," she said, and Mary didn't think the woman had detected any lies. "Evelyn was telling me that he'd logged over 7,000 hours of flight time and 4,000 of them in a _jet_ while at Edwards. I heard he was NASA's first choice in the selection."

"He's pretty amazing like that," Mary said, her stomach sinking again as Matthew and the other men entered the party at last. His eyes found hers immediately and he smiled. Mary groaned internally. "Although I did teach him how to fly."

"My, my, you did?" Lavinia asked, in awe. "That's so fantastic."

"What is?" Evelyn asked, reaching them as Matthew followed close behind.

"Evelyn," Lavinia said excitedly, hooking her arm into her husband's. "Mary here taught Captain Crawley how to fly. Isn't that just marvelous?"

"The best teacher I ever had," Matthew interjected before anyone else could respond, wrapping his arm around Mary's waist. She pressed her lips together in a smile, wishing it was later, that they could be back at the hotel and pretend this whole night hadn't happened.

"You're such a doll," Mary said, her voice sickeningly sweet as her stomach churned. "I only wish it was me going up there," she forced herself to sound teasing, releasing a giggle that would normally irritate her in others, but at least she'd said something truthful for once.

"I'll ask them if they'll put in a little sidecar in the rocket for you, huh, baby?" Matthew asked, the words clearly out of his mouth before he'd thought about them. She knew he hadn't, for he looked worried as soon as he'd spoken. And Mary fought the urge to smack him upside the head.

Instead, she clenched her teeth in a tight smile.

"I'd rather fly it myself," she retorted, unable to keep the edge out of her tone. "Excuse me, please," Mary requested of Evelyn and Lavinia, who both looked a little bemused by the exchange.

Mary felt Matthew follow after her, his hand resting lightly on her waist.

"I was out of line," he whispered in her ear.

"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock," Mary shot back, finishing off her drink in one gulp. "You going to say that to Susan if she wants to get her test pilot's license one day?"

"You act like it's my fault the military won't accept women to the program," Matthew replied. Mary tried not to roll her eyes. "Let's dance, huh? This is a great song," Matthew said, changing the subject as Mary set her glass on a nearby table. "Plus, we'll throw 'em all off the scent."

She considered for a moment, but gave in. She hated how right he was.

With a forced smile, she grabbed his hand, leading the way over to the dance floor. After pulling her close, Matthew's hand settled low on her waist, but she pretended to enjoy it as they swung in-time to the music.

"I don't think I've seen you in a dress since we were married," he commented, dipping her backward.

"It's a little hard to fly with a skirt up around your head. Plus it's easier to chase after the kids," she replied as he righted her, his hand slipping even lower on her hip. "Hey, that's not part of the deal."

Matthew chuckled, his hand on her waist again as he leaned in close.

"So I know something you don't," he whispered, lips tickling her ear. Mary pulled away, lifting an eyebrow as she gave him a smile.

"And what's that?" she asked, anxious to know what it could possibly be.

"It's going to require you sticking around for longer," Matthew informed her.

Mary couldn't help but frown at this.

"You're serious?" she questioned.

"You said you'd do whatever we had to do for this to happen," Matthew reminded her, his own merriment gone.

"Just tell me what it is," she demanded, but still trying to smile like nothing was wrong.

"They want the families to move to Hampton," he said finally.

"Move? To Virginia?" she asked, dumbfounded. "Are they mad?"

"Hey, you said-"

"We're done talking now," Mary said, cutting him off.

Matthew fell silent, only dancing now as his hand moved lower again.

"Matthew-" she protested.

"Are you wearing panty hose?" he questioned and she pulled away from him, giving his shoulder a gentle push so he'd release her.

"Love ya, honey bear," she said, aware of people nearby who had seen the exchange.

Matthew lifted his eyebrows, clearly getting the hint, but he winked at her before strutting off to talk to some of the other men.

A few of the other wives stood nearby, Anna and Rose, so Mary approached them.

"I can barely stay away from that man," she said, as cheery as she could muster. "What a day, huh?"

"It's certainly been something I never expected," Rose said with an unaffected smile, but she kept her eyes on Mary, who felt the meaning behind her words.

While Matthew and Atticus had trained at Edwards, Mary had often confided in Rose when things turned rocky with her husband. Of all the ladies, Rose was surely the most surprised that Mary was there with Matthew. And she knew what they had to lose.

"And I hear there's more to come," Mary said, uneasy.

Rose put her hand on Mary's shoulder.

"That's why we have each other," she said, with a compassionate smile. Mary hoped she meant it.

* * *

Finally the night was over. Mary exhaled and Matthew turned to look at her as the cab drove through the city to the hotel.

"Are you still sore at me for earlier?" he questioned in the darkness.

"To what are you referring?" she murmured, staring blankly out the window. "There were so many moments to chose from."

"I'm sorry. I'm an ass," he said as the pulled up to the front entrance. Matthew tipped the driver as they got out of the car and Mary headed for the entrance.

"Tell me something I don't know," Mary replied, when he'd caught up to her.

He didn't speak right away, the tension thick between them.

"You didn't let me finish earlier. NASA wants the families to move to Hampton as part of the _LIFE_ contract," he explained and Mary frowned, stopping in her tracks before they'd reached the hotel's lobby.

"What contract?" she asked.

Matthew sighed.

" _LIFE_ is offering us, all of us, a $500,000 contract. Split seven ways."

Mary's jaw fell open.

"$500,000 dollars? Split seven ways, that's...that's-" her voice drifted off.

"A hell of a lot of money. And a $100,000 life insurance policy," he finished heavily, leading her over to one of the sofas secluded from the main entrance. They both sat down and Mary was grateful, as it felt like her legs would give out.

"That, with my paycheck from NASA, Mary, you'd never have to go back to that mind-numbing clerk job. You'd never need to work again."

She was in disbelief. Unable to comprehend such a vast sum, she aimed some irrational annoyance at her husband.

"What the hell would I do all day? Knit socks for you and the kids?" she scoffed.

"Christ, I don't know," he said. "Be a fight instructor? There's an airfield not far from here."

"So I can teach more punks like you who have a shot of becoming a test pilot while I'm stuck in the same place for the rest of my life?" she retorted.

"It always has to come back to that, doesn't it?" Matthew groaned, running a hand through his hair.

"It'll stop when the military gives women a chance. You _know_ that I was just as qualified as you were to train, just as good of a flyer as you," she said quickly.

"Better," Matthew corrected, meeting her eyes again. "I can't change the policy, Mary. No matter how much I disagree with it."

"So you're finally saying that you do agree? With me?"

He broke into a smile and Mary pressed her lips together to hold back her own. Matthew laughed and her stomach fluttered stupidly at the sound. _What is wrong with me?_

"God, of course I do," he said after a moment. "You're one of the best pilots I know. You deserved to get into a program every bit as much as I did. Plus, you're a hell of a lot prettier than any of the other guys that were in my class. Including Atticus," he joked.

Mary swallowed, her pulse pounding unevenly in her ears as his compliments. One meaning much more to her than the other.

"You've never said that to me before," she said, dropping his gaze.

Mary didn't elaborate for a long time and Matthew maintained the silence as they sat off to the side of the lobby, although she could feel his gaze on her. How she wished she knew what he was thinking, maybe their marriage would have been easier, or at least more honest. But she had a hard enough time being honest with herself, as this entire conversation was proving again and again as she pushed her feelings aside.

"When you were accepted to Edwards," she began, careful as she spoke, for she heard the others slowly returning to the hotel. She was glad they couldn't see them. "All you did was pat yourself on the back, beg for congratulations every chance you got. You just mooned over yourself night and day until I could barely take it."

She looked up again and shook her head, Matthew's smile replaced by a more sober expression of remorse. And perhaps a little shame.

"How do you think that made me feel?" she asked, looking away again to focus on a nearby painting, although she didn't really see it.

He didn't respond and Mary released a sigh. Of course he had no idea how she felt, no bloody clue when he'd always gotten everything he'd ever wanted in life.

"I know you think I haven't experienced disappointment, Mary," Matthew said after a long time, his voice softer now. "That I've had everything handed to me, but that's not true. In '46, when I was discharged from the Marines, I didn't have a damn clue what I was going to do. I thought I would spent the rest of my life as a Marine, but they cut me loose. Hell, even going to Hawaii seemed like a nightmare to me at first. Dad was always so stern with me, I'd thought the Marines had been a bunch of softies by comparison. Going to college was just another way to escape him, but I didn't care much about my studies at first. Not until I met you."

Mary released a ragged breath as he spoke, tilting her head to watch him from the corner of her eye, but he wasn't looking at her anymore. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, although she could tell he was lost in thought.

"God, it was like all the lights came on at once. There you were in intro to engineering, absolutely stunning and ignoring every guy in there except me because I wouldn't let you. And you wouldn't take any shit from me."

Here, he met Mary's gaze, his eyes tender. Mary's eyes stung in response.

"Still won't," she reminded him and Matthew slid closer to her on the sofa.

"You're the one who convinced me to get my pilot's license, who was the first one to take me up in a plane."

Mary laughed. "After the first day, the flight director asked me my impressions of you, son of a famed Great War vet, and all I could say was, ' _He's very full of himself_ '."

Matthew laughed and took her hand.

"You're not wrong," he said, his fingers brushing against her skin. "I owe all of that to you, Mary. Surely you know that."

Mary stared at their fingers for a few moments, doing nothing to encourage or stop his caresses, baffled by it.

"Matthew, what are you doing?" she asked, lifting her head to look at him.

"Mary, I don't want to fight anymore," he said, eyes earnest. "If we're going to do this, why don't we do it for real? George and Susan can finally have their father back. And we'll have each other again."

Mary freed her hand from his grip, hating herself for pulling away, her heart aching at his offer. But her own wounds still hurt too much.

"You can't just erase the past three years, Matthew," she said, getting to her feet, emotions flooding through her like she was submerged in them, drowning. "What about what happened in California? My parents were watching the kids, Susan was only two years old, and I came to visit you at Edwards." Matthew rolled his eyes, infuriating her again. "I come out to the damn Air Force base, travel over two thousand miles, and find out there was another woman in your room the night before! And I had to hear it from the office secretary, no less."

"How many times do I have to tell you that it wasn't what you think?" he asked, exasperated.

"What was it? Book club?" she scorned.

"I didn't cheat on you," he insisted. "God, when are you going to believe me?"

She ignored his question, pushing away thoughts of what it really was then. If he still wouldn't tell her, did she even want to know?

"And who the hell knows what you've been doing this past year. I'm sure there's no shortage of women who want to get in the bed of a pilot...now astronaut. Don't the women just swoon for a man in uniform?"

"Some don't," was his only response, his eyes fixed on her.

Mary blinked and crossed her arms.

"I've seen too many strut around the airfield for it to have any affect on me anymore."

"Jesus," Matthew groaned, "how in the hell are we going to keep this up, Mary? It's been two days and there's barely been a moment when we're not at each others' throats." He ran a hand through his hair again, aggravated. "I'm going to be grounded before NASA even finalizes the plans for the first launch. Aren't you even going to try?"

"I do try," she shot back, making an effort to keep her voice low, but she was so exhausted from the day it was a feat to not shout. Somehow, she succeeded. "I've been performing like a trained monkey for the past twelve hours, all for who? Me?"

"I know how much you hate doing anything for me," he retorted, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"I came out here for you," she said, her anger replaced with pain and disappointment. "For your _dream_. Because that's all that ever matters."

Matthew frowned, his eyes reflecting the misery Mary felt. She wanted to let go of her anger, but she was afraid. Afraid of hurting more, of her barely held together heart breaking into a million pieces. Of ruining everything again.

"God, we're a pair," he muttered and Mary silently agreed. "How are we going to make it through our interview tomorrow?"

"Just try not to be an ass," she offered, her words causing Matthew to crack a smile.

The sight of it made her heart feel lighter, her emotions such a rollercoaster since she'd arrived in Virginia, she hardly knew what to think or say anymore. But, God, she'd missed that stupid smile.

"There's that wit," he commented, the lightness returning to his voice. "Reminds me why I married you."

Mary sighed, the end of it punctured by a defeated laugh.

 _How are we going to do this?_

* * *

 ** _Thanks for reading! Please follow, favorite, or review._**


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello again! Sorry this chapter took longer than the previous one. I was away last week visiting a friend (who just had the cutest baby ever!) and I didn't have time to finish writing/proof it until recently and fell super behind! And thanks so much to all of you who've reviewed so far! It's very encouraging to see them and I really appreciate it, especially considering the continuing angst. :) :) :) Just trust me on this, it'll be totally worth it._

 _Also, there are a few show quotes that I've pulled from The Astronaut Wives Club (episode 1 only, I think) and those have been italicized._

 _Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!_

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

 _April 10, 1959_

"Susan, George, get in here and brush your teeth please," Mary called into the front room where the children were watching cartoons.

Matthew had already left for Langley that morning, the men always needing to be there early for some debriefing or photo op or something that he rarely shared with her. Not that she could entirely blame him. There was a lot on his mind, she wasn't surprised he didn't feel like telling her things. Not with the way things were between them.

But now she was left to follow behind and finish getting the children ready for the day of more photos, interviews, and their fake lives.

She listened for a moment, but heard no movement from the other side except for the sound of George's football against the coffee table.

"Do it now," she called again, finding her pearl necklace and fastening the clasp behind her neck. "George, Susan!"

The two scampered in at long last, but hesitated as they looked at her.

"Come on, in you go," Mary told them. "We've got to meet Daddy soon."

They looked at one another with uncertainty and after a moment Mary crouched down in front of them, her brow knit together in concern.

"What is it, my dears?" she asked, balancing precariously in one-inch heels that matched her light teal dress. The people at _LIFE_ had requested the wives wear pastels for the shoot and it was the closest thing she had.

"Do you hate Daddy?" Susan asked without warning.

Mary felt deflated as she looked between the two of them, saw the worry in their eyes.

"Of course not, sweetheart," Mary said, feeling the honesty of her words even though she had no way of proving it to him or their children.

"You yell at each other a lot," George said, glum.

Mary wished the walls in the room were thicker. Although she figured you'd need eight feet of solid concrete to block out her shouting matches with Matthew at times.

"We don't always agree on everything," she began, treading carefully, "but that doesn't mean we hate each other. And we both love you two very, very much. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Mommy," Susan said and George nodded in agreement.

"Come here," Mary said, gently drawing them to her chest. She pressed a quick kiss to each of their foreheads. "I love you so much, my dears."

"I love you, too," George said.

"Love you, Mommy," Susan replied, clinging to Mary with extra force.

"Now how about you two get in there and brush those teeth so we can meet Daddy at the base?"

"Alright, Mommy," George agreed, heading for the bathroom after Mary ruffled his hair.

"That's my boy," she said with a smile, but Susan's arms remained tight around Mary's neck as her brother disappeared from view. "What is it, peanut?" Mary asked as the little girl sniffed against Mary's neck.

"I miss Daddy," she sobbed.

"Sweetheart, we're going to see Daddy very soon," Mary assured her, pulling back so Susan could see her face.

"I miss him all the time," the little girl cried, crocodile tears pouring from her eyes.

Mary's heart felt as though it was being pulled from her chest and run over by a car.

"Shh, I know, peanut, I know," Mary said, kissing her daughter's forehead. "If you stop crying, we'll get to see Daddy even sooner."

Susan sniffed.

"Do you miss Daddy, Mommy?" she asked, tearfully.

Mary felt caught. She didn't want to lie to her daughter, she'd been avoiding that with every question from her children over the past year regarding their father. But the truth was complicated. And something Mary didn't even understand herself lately was her own feelings for Matthew.

 _My husband._

One minute she wanted to strangle him, the next they were laughing as though nothing was wrong. And other times she wished she could kiss him, that she could lie in his arms and never be let go.

Did she miss him? God, did she.

"Brush your teeth, please," Mary said, unable to say the words, for if she just kept them hidden, perhaps she could convince herself that they weren't true.

She tapped Susan on the bottom to send her off, the little girl scrambling into the bathroom, tears subsiding as she giggled at something George was doing.

"Quickly please," Mary requested, righting herself in order to check her hair in the mirror above the dresser.

Satisfied that the clips still holding her curls in place, Mary fixed her lipstick, meeting her eyes in the reflection as she secured the cap. She hated how stern she looked and released a sigh in the hope that it would relax her. But her expression remained unchanged and she wondered how she was supposed to do an interview and take more photos like this.

"George! You're not supposed to use that as a potty!" Susan's voice shrieked and Mary tore herself away from the mirror, heels clicking as she stepped into the bathroom to see George using the now bathtub as though it were a urinal. Susan had just flushed the toilet and was looking at her brother with a very alarmed expression.

"George, what on earth?" Mary questioned, but immediately erupted in a fit of giggles that Susan joined in.

"Susie was using the potty and I had to go," he complained, zipping his pants up. He broke into a grin as his mother laughed. "You're not mad at me?"

"No," Mary assured him, her thoughts drifting to who would be using the bathtub as a bed again. "I'm not mad, but try not to do it again, dear."

With a ruffle of George's hair, Mary smiled. She couldn't wait to see the look on Matthew's face when she told him.

* * *

The men had yet to arrive at the designated meeting area near Langley, at a spot along the Back River. Susan's blonde curls whipped about the wind, prompting Mary to wish she'd given her daughter a pair of braids rather than the matching bob she'd begged Mary for after seeing her mother's hairstyle. She sat to the side with Susan after straightening the little girl's dress following a tumble that was mostly caused by her brother when he'd kicked his football at her and she'd tripped over it, leading to a scraped knee and a few more tears to punctuate their morning.

George was now playing with some of the other boys and a few rougher girls, although all the mothers were anxious that none of them tear their clothes or cover themselves in dirt.

"Why the men can't be on time like the rest of us is beyond me."

Mary looked up from her seat on a bench, resting her cheek on the top of Susan's head as the little girl watched the game of tag before them. Sybil Branson gave Mary a smile as she sat at her side. The other wives were milling about in small groups, although Mary had found it easier to sit alone.

"Love your dress," Sybil said. "And yours too, Susan," which brought a smile to the little girl's face.

"I'm sure NASA thinks there are more important things to worry about than whether or not they're wasting our time," Mary said with a flick of her eyebrows.

"That's what Tom seems to think. He's not worried at all if my hair falls out before any photos are taken. Were you seeing spots yesterday, too?" Sybil asked with a laugh. "It felt like I was being followed by paparazzi even in my dreams."

"I hardly think it's too much to ask for us to look our best at all times."

Both Mary and Sybil turned their attention to Mabel Gillingham, wife of Lieutenant Commander Tony Gillingham. Mary had disliked her since their first meeting, and she sensed the feeling was mutual. Some of the other wives had already taken to jokingly calling Mrs. Gillingham "Lady Mabel," as she always seemed the picture of elegance. Mary half-wondered why it hadn't been given to herself, although she was sure a nickname from the other wives would be something they would try to keep from her.

"Oh, I wasn't saying that," Sybil said, unmistakable honesty in her tone. "Just that my hair doesn't seem to like this Virginia wind."

Mabel smiled slightly, but her eyes hardened as she looked at Mary, who was now sure of Mabel's dislike.

"Is it really a waste of our time if it benefits our husbands?" she asked.

Mary refrained, somehow, from rolling her eyes. She'd heard enough about Lt. Commander Gillingham to know that if womanizing was a contest, he would have crossed the finish line hours before any of the other men had even left the starting point. Either Mabel didn't know (which Mary found rather unlikely), she didn't care, or chose to ignore it. But she didn't need to add any fuel to someone else's marital troubles. She had enough of her own.

"I meant it was a waste of this gorgeous day," Mary corrected, squinting in the sunlight. She'd forgotten her sunglasses in the hotel. Unfortunately. "I know my son has been aching to get out on the water. Not much of that in Ohio."

"Oh, I'm sure," Mabel said, although Mary could tell she didn't believe her. "You know, my Tony says your husband's the real competition," Mabel said, a bit more gracious now, although Mary wasn't sure why.

This made Mary laugh as Rose and Lavinia approached, apparently interested in the growing throng.

"Oh, my," Mary said, feigning surprise, "actually, Matthew doesn't have any competition."

Out of the corner of her eye, Mary saw Lavinia cover her mouth to hide a smile while Rose coughed to hide her amusement. Apparently arrogance was a Crawley family trait.

"I think you're mistaken about that," Mabel replied, cool.

"Matthew tells me that Lieutenant Gillingham is a desk jockey," Mary said knowingly.

"Tony _has a desk at fleet command because he's on track to become an admiral_ ," Mabel retorted.

"Matthew _doesn't care about rank_ ," Mary told her honestly. "All he cares about is how many flying hours he gets. He has over 3,000."

"Tony's had nearly five," Mabel replied.

She had her there.

"Well, I think it's just astounding the way that Tom Branson flew across the country at supersonic speed," Rose interjected and Sybil laughed.

"He's not even your husband," she said with a smile, clearly flattered.

"But I still think it's amazing, and you can tell him I said that," Rose replied. "Absolutely amazing."

"Will do," Sybil agreed.

Mabel looked livid. She sauntered off, heels clicking on the pavement and Sybil snorted.

"She's just sore because I heard her husband was chosen last for the program," she said. "And Captain Crawley was first."

"It's not as though they aren't all qualified," Mary said, hearing the sound of car engines roaring. "But who goes up first isn't up to us."

The sight of seven brightly colored Corvettes prompted all the ladies and most of the children forward, Susan jumping up and down excitedly as the cars were parked and the men appeared from the driver's side.

"Daddy!" Susan called out and Mary allowed her to break away this time, as the cars were all turned off. She slowly made her way to Matthew, who had gotten out of the red Corvette. He tilted a pair sunglasses up on his head before catching Susan in his arms.

"Oh, God, new toys," Rose said, casting a look of camaraderie at Mary as she stood.

Mary hated to admit that she couldn't wait for a ride in the new toy.

"I guess this is what you get when you're an astronaut," Mary said to Rose, who kept back with Mary as the others walked to their men. "Fame and free cars."

"I guess so," Rose replied, then beginning in an undertone, "I must admit, Mary, I was rather surprised to see you here. Not that I'm not glad to see a friend."

Mary felt buoyed by that.

"Thanks," she said, sighing as they followed after the others. "NASA wants happy families, so that's what they're going to get from the Crawleys. Matthew may be full of himself-"

" _That's why they call them ass-tronauts_ ," Rose teased and Mary laughed.

" _But he deserves to be here_ ," Mary said and Rose nodded. "As long as I play nice, _maybe one day it'll be me going into space_."

Rose scoffed, looking doubtful. "I know Matthew lets you fly around in that little plane of yours-"

"Lets me?" Mary interrupted, but Rose continued.

"-but pigs will fly in space before women do."

"Well, pigs have flown in space...at least dogs have, mice, rabbits, even fruit flies," Mary corrected. "Chimps. Come on, Rose, it's 1959. _It's our time_."

"Maybe," she agreed, still skeptical, but Mary could tell the other woman was giving in. Rose smiled. "I hope so, anyway."

"What's all this?" Anna questioned as the seven wives approached, Mary and Rose finally catching up.

"Gifts from _LIFE_ ," Captain Bates informed them all. "You ladies will have a surprise, too."

Mary approached her husband, admiring his new car.

"Is this what the seven of you have been doing all morning, hot shot? Tearing about Hampton in your new wheels?" Mary asked, laying a hand on the car's hood and trying not to salivate all over it. _God, it's pretty._

"Watch the paint job," Matthew said, a teasing note in his voice as he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. Mary's heart fluttered at his touch. "That and talking to a few of the higher ups about what does and doesn't go during the interviews."

"Anything I need to know?" she asked.

"How to drive stick," he joked, setting Susan on her feet. "Go play with the others, peanut," Matthew told the girl and Mary sensed he needed a moment alone with just her.

"I can handle a stick-shift," Mary replied as they watched Susan bound away. "I'm guessing my surprise isn't going to be as fun as yours?" she questioned, wondering what the odds were that Matthew would let her take a spin in his new car.

"Probably something that fits more than just two people," he said, grinning. "Something with four doors and enough room for groceries. But I'll take you out in mine."

Mary snorted.

"And what about the interview?" she asked finally, pushing away thoughts of getting behind the wheel herself.

Matthew looked more serious now, his eyes darting to the others to be sure no one was too close.

"I spoke to Mr. Davis privately and he said that it, our situation, can't get out. We have to be happy, have to be in love," he told her. "Just...pretend like you love me."

Mary rolled her eyes, but her thoughts drifted to the events of the morning, the worries of their children.

"I actually need to tell you something," she said quietly, laying a hand on his arm as she moved closer to him. She hoped the gesture would be taken as a moment of tenderness by the others.

Matthew stared at her fingers for a few moments, perplexed, before finally meeting her eyes.

"What is it, baby?" Matthew asked, the term of endearment causing that flutter again, one she knew would return over and over again the course of the afternoon. Along with her irritation and exhaustion.

"This morning George and Susan asked if I hate you," Mary breathed as nearby a NASA representative called for all the families' to gather up before the people from _LIFE_ arrived. Mary ignored him, instead watching as Matthew swallowed, his expression pained.

"What did you say?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"That I don't," was all she could say as the rep shouted for attention again, louder this time, as the parents called for their children to join them.

Matthew only looked back at her for a moment, as he was then prompted to guide her over to the others, his arm around her waist as the children gathered up after some intense prodding. Susan insisted her father pick her up again, separating him from his wife as he held their daughter. She ignored her disappointment, which she found irrational anyway, placing her hands on George's shoulders as the rep began his speech.

"Who's ready to be seen by the world?" he asked, cheerful.

Mary cast a glance at her husband and was taken aback to discover that he had already been looking at her. She swallowed hard, worried.

* * *

More posing for photographs, more mingling with the others, watching them make it through their photos and twenty minute interviews. Somehow, Mary and Matthew were the last pair to undergo the interrogation, Susan and George growing increasingly weary in the course of a few hours. Mary wondered if George or his sister would burst into tears first.

"George, just sit here and hold the ball, don't throw it," Mary said, trying to corral her children for the photographer.

"Why don't we have little Susan on Captain Crawley's lap?" the man asked as Mary sat beside George and flattened out her skirt.

"Sure," Matthew agreed, sitting on the bench by Mary, holding out his arms to Susan.

Susan climbed into his lap, although Mary could sense she was in desperate need of a nap, the activity of the day and a big lunch mixing into a mood that often resulted in a tantrum from the normally sweet little girl. Matthew smiled at her and Susan smiled back, still looking tired but more content in her father's arms.

 _Thank God_ , Mary thought.

"Alright, now look at the camera," the photographer said, clearly exhausted by the day himself. "Smile."

Mary plastered her grin on and attempted to make her eyes as non-threatening as possible while Matthew's arm slipped around her waist and he pulled her in close. The shutter clicked a handful of times.

"Alright, um, Mrs. Crawley, why don't you look at the Captain in this shot?" he suggested.

"What would you like my expression to be?" Mary asked, unsure.

"Um, adoring," the man said.

Not at all pleased with this direction, Mary tilted her head to look at Matthew, her eyes fixing on his cheek. She gave it her best shot, her thoughts drifting to the new Corvette she might still be able to wrangle Matthew into letting her drive. The camera clicked some more, the photographer apparently pleased with this shot.

"Now look at each other, kids just keep smiling at me," he directed.

Matthew turned to Mary, shifting back slightly in his seat. He met her eyes with a smile, Mary amazed by how at ease he looked, how real it all seemed. She knew the public would eat it up, stories of astronauts in love, but she was more astonished that she almost bought it too.

"And then, Mrs. Crawley, look here while the Captain looks at you."

Breaking eye contact with Matthew was difficult, with Mary rather confused by the hold he seemed to have on her. After spending so much time apart, she realized there was still a part of her that she'd never gotten back from him and probably never would.

Her eyes stung as she looked at the camera, although she hoped it would be disguised as happiness rather than what it was. Confusion.

The last few shots were taken quickly, one of just Mary and the children and then Matthew with them.

"And a last one with the two of you," the photographer requested as the children sat to the side watching them. "Just look like you're talking about something, having a laugh."

Mary disguised a sigh as she sat by Matthew again, while he took her hands in his without any direction to do so.

"What should we be talking about?" Mary asked, her eyes flicking from the photographer to Matthew, feeling self-conscious as their children looked on. She was so aware of what they must think, what they must be feeling over all of this, she could hardly function.

"Oh, just anything," the man suggested unhelpfully.

"Tell me that one joke you know," Matthew suggested with a roguish grin.

"I know more than one joke," Mary retorted, trying to ignore the sound of the camera clicking. It seemed as though the photographer was bent on taking a thousand shots of this last pose.

"You only know one," he teased, his fingers lightly caressing her skin. "Unless you've picked up a couple more in the last few days. I know Rose is rather witty."

Mary didn't roll her eyes at this, although she desperately wanted to, for fear of ruining the shot. She wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

"Where would an astronaut park his space ship?" Mary asked.

Matthew chuckled, noting that it was in fact a new joke. Or at least a stupid one.

"That's assuming that the craft has some sort of-"

"Matthew," she protested, keeping her own smile in place.

"I don't know, where?" he questioned.

"At a parking meteor," she replied.

After a moment's hesitation, he chuckled.

"Did you see that on a cereal box?" he questioned, leaning closer to her.

"It was in the newspaper," Mary replied, that cloudy feeling returning to her mind while her heart skipped a few beats. "Everyone else seems to be obsessed with astronauts, too."

Matthew laughed again, quickly touching his lips to the tip of her nose while the camera continued to go off.

Pulse pounding in her ears, Mary held her breath.

* * *

 _What did you think?_


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello all! Sorry these updates haven't been on a consistent day, I'm still hoping to post them on Saturdays (although with school starting up in a week I might have to go to every other week. Sorry!). Thank you so much for reading and your continuing encouragement in the reviews and PMs. I feel like I say this every time, but I'm blown away by how kind and gracious all of you are in your messages and reviews. I never expected this story to get such a response!_

 _Downton show quotes are in italics, per usual. The second part of this chapter was based on a scene from episode 3 of The Astronaut Wives Club, "Retroattitude," with some altered dialogue._

 _As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!_

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

 _August 19, 1959_

"I thought we were getting a break," Mary complained on yet another trip from the airport, the third in less than two months. Anna sat in the front of the rental car as Mary drove while their children occupied the backseat, happily chattering away in the afternoon sun. She was thankful Anna let them drive with the windows down, as the heat was stifling, although Mary did feel guilty as Anna's loose curls whipped about her face.

"I know, all this flying is putting a dent in our summer schedules. The girls had to pass up two slumber parties this week. I'd be angry with John if I didn't miss him so much," Anna said, clearly eager to get back to her husband. "I'll be glad when we move out here in September, although we'll all miss home."

Mary made a noncommittal noise of agreement, unable to voice her exasperation for her own husband. In the past two months, she'd quit her job in order to be available for the stupid trips to Virginia, although the bi-weekly stipend from _LIFE_ had certainly helped ease their expenses. And Matthew's NASA paycheck, which she'd grudgingly accepted after she ran out of options. As much as she hated this dependency on him, under such circumstances, keeping up appearances and providing for their children was more important than her bruised ego. And it did give her a chance to consider flying again.

Along with that, they'd been in the process of packing up the house, something Mary was less than thrilled about since it meant going through all of Matthew's things as well as her own. Every time she saw something familiar, like an old shirt or a wedding photo that had been tucked away, it stung, reminding her of a time when things had been different.

When they'd been in love.

"I just want to be the one flying the plane," Mary commented truthfully. It had been ages since she'd actually flown, she was tempted to commandeer the plane this time.

"That's right. Rose said you have your pilot's license. I always love when John takes me up," Anna said, thoughtful. "It's so pretty up there. I can imagine it's even better when you're at the controls."

Mary found herself smiling, glad Anna and her daughters had arrived at the same time they had.

"You have no idea," Mary told her. "But then, Matthew always does say I love to be in control."

Her voice sounded bitter and she tried to disguise it with a laugh, but she felt the dynamic change in the car.

"I know it's none of my business, Mary," Anna began, breaking a rather tense silence, "but how are things going with Matthew?"

"What do you mean?" Mary asked in an undertone, thankful the children seemed occupied in the backseat. Cassandra was teaching George and Susan a new song she'd heard on the radio.

"We all saw what happened at the cocktail party the night of the press conference. When you were dancing," Anna said, careful as she spoke. "Don't tell me things are as peachy keen between the two of you as they seem to be for Sybil and Tom."

"You're right, it's none of your business," Mary said, brusque although she genuinely liked Anna and knew she needed another friend. But she couldn't imagine what would happen if the real truth got out. It did seem to be teetering close to the edge now. It was too close for Mary's comfort.

"I'm sorry for askin'," Anna said, and Mary heard the twinge in the other woman's voice.

"No, I'm sorry," Mary amended. "It's just...being in the public eye now. It's better to keep the more...sensational stories hidden."

"You're thinking I'll call up a tabloid and spill all the details to them?" Anna questioned. "It's not like John and I are perfect. He sings horribly off-key in the morning and I often throw a pillow at him to shut him up."

Anna's teasing note caused Mary to laugh.

"Plus, I can help, I'm sure," Anna added. "At least try to deflect attention away from you if necessary."

Mary didn't say anything, focusing on the road for a few minutes as she listened to the kids chatter away in the backseat.

"The truth is," she began, slow as she chose her words carefully, "we've been having problems for a few years now. It started as my fault, I'm sure Matthew would say that, at least. I was angry that he'd gotten into Edwards as a test pilot. Not that he was very gallant about it, but we started to argue more. I wouldn't move out to California with him and then Matthew visited less and less. I asked for a divorce."

Mary intentionally left out Matthew's possible infidelity, which he continued to maintain wasn't what she thought, but she was unwilling to believe when he offered no explanation. If he hadn't cheated, why was he still keeping it a secret? What else could have happened?

"A divorce?" Anna whispered, sounding shocked. "I thought John and I had some arguments, but I'd never even consider-"

"Our arguments are more like nuclear explosions," Mary said, chancing a glance at Anna, who looked rather confounded. "I just couldn't take it."

"Golly," Anna said, meeting Mary's eye before the latter turned to the road again. "But you came back?"

Mary nodded, releasing a heavy breath. She'd re-played that first telephone conversation over and over in her mind, analyzing her own reasons for agreeing to the whole charade. Part of it had been the chance to be at Langley, to be so close to the space program she could almost taste it, but she knew that wasn't the whole story. Part of her wanted to punish him for his bad behavior at Edwards, but that wasn't it either. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she knew Matthew deserved this chance. And she knew she'd do anything to help him get to space.

"You're a braver woman that I am," Anna said after a few moments, admiration in her voice.

"Brave?" Mary asked, looking at Anna again. "For what? Nearly tearing apart my family? For resenting my husband?"

"For agreeing to do this for him," Anna corrected. "I know it can't be easy. Sometimes when John and I fight, I don't want to see him for a day. But having something makes you want to be free of him? Well, it takes real courage to come here and pretend like nothing is wrong."

"I'm just waiting for it all to spill out," Mary sighed, checking the rearview mirror, glimpsing Susan and George in the back. "Frankly, I'm surprised it's been quiet for this long."

"Well, now you'll have all the help from me that you need. I won't even tell John. Promise," Anna said. "And I'm sure any of the others would do the same for you."

Mary scoffed, doubting Mabel or even Edith wouldn't throw her under a bus if given the chance.

"Somehow I don't think that's true," Mary replied.

"Are you talking about Mabel? Or Edith?" Anna asked, her accuracy surprising Mary. "I don't know. I think their bark is worse than their bite. If they'd wanted, I'm sure they could have dug something up with speed, but not a peep."

"Maybe they're waiting until they have more leverage," Mary offered.

"Or they need a friend as much as you do," Anna replied gently.

 _Maybe_.

 _August 20, 1959_

"Matthew, where the hell are we going?" Mary asked as he drove the Corvette past the research center.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, bright orange reflecting off of the clouds and making them almost lavender in color. Anna had offered to keep an eye on the kids while Mary and Matthew were out, although Mary had yet to learn where they were going and was starting to regret her agreement.

"I thought you were showing me something for the agency?"

"No, this is something purely personal," he said, giving her a grin.

"Then I wouldn't have come," was Mary's retort. "God, you're annoying when you want to be. Which is actually most of the time." She let out a sigh. "I should have stayed at the hotel. Rose and Sybil wanted to play cards."

"You can play gin tomorrow after the test launch. _Little Joe 1_ is going to really be something," he said with a laugh.

"It's not as though the Soviets haven't already made unmanned launches," Mary interjected, crossing her arms.

"Well, we've got to start with the easy stuff before we can throw a man into a launch vehicle and propel him away from the earth," he said.

Mary rolled her eyes, in no need of an engineering lesson. Not when she'd been the one to tutor him in college.

"I still don't understand why you wouldn't let me drive," she said, groaning as she ran her hand over the leather interior. At least that was something.

"Because you don't know where you're going," he reminded her.

"Isn't that what a navigator is for? To tell you where to turn?" she shot back and he snorted.

"I am a little surprised you said 'yes' even on such vague terms," he began. Mary heard the tone in his voice, so smug. _Ugh._ "Can I ask why you did?"

"I don't know, _can_ you?" she replied, irritated by him again, especially that he was ruining her enjoyment of a perfectly nice ride in the car. That would have been made all the more nicer with her at the wheel.

"Was it because of the kiss?"

Mary clenched her teeth at Matthew's smug tone.

 _The kiss. Ugh_.

She wanted to scrub her brain with bleach to forget about what she'd done.

When Mary, Anna, and the kids had finally arrived at the hotel the day before, both Matthew and John were standing out front, a slew of reporters and photographers clustered together as they anxiously awaited the families' arrival. Mary had almost driven on past out of irritation, but two of the girls were complaining about needing to go to the bathroom and she had no idea where the nearest gas station was for them to do their business. So she stopped.

The children had happily spilled out of the backseat into the arms of their fathers with much delighted squealing, but Anna was much quicker than Mary about leaving the car. Instead, Mary dawdled under the guise of finding her sunglasses, but she remembered they were in her suitcase instead. She'd placed them there without thinking and now she had no protection from the cameras.

 _Oh, God,_ she thought, finally getting out of the car after getting a pointed look from Matthew across the hood.

"Hey, babe," Matthew had said, leaving the children on the sidewalk to meet her by the door. "Miss me?"

Mary knew his question was for the bystanders, more rhetorical than anything, but without her sunglasses she felt even more self-conscious than normal, like she did during the interview and photoshoot back in April.

"Of course," she said, giving her best smile which she was afraid was less than satisfactory. So instead, she shut her eyes and gave Matthew a kiss on the mouth.

If Matthew had been surprised, she would have understood, for she hadn't initiated a kiss in so many months that she couldn't even remember when the last time even was. But what happened was even worse.

He kissed her back.

Mary pulled away after what she knew was too long, lightheaded and blushing for more than one reason, her fingers so tight on his arm she guessed they'd leave a bruise.

Served him right.

"Stop bringing it up," Mary warned him back in the present, pulling her thoughts away from the day before. Away from the remembered feeling of his lips. "God, I was just doing it for the cameras."

"None of them had even asked for a kiss," he said, giving her a suggestive grin before turning his eyes to the road again.

"When are you going to let it go?" she questioned with a scoff.

"When you just admit that you did it so you could kiss me," he said without looking at her. "You miss kissing me."

"Ha! I'd just as sooner kiss the tailpipe of the 'Vet than kiss you for pleasure," she retorted.

Matthew snorted.

"Nothing's stopping ya," he noted as he slowed to make a turn.

"Langley Air Force Base?" Mary asked, reading the sign out front. "What are we doing here?"

"I figured we could stop and I'll let you kiss the 'Vet," he teased.

"Very funny," she shot back. "Seriously, what's going on?"

Matthew slowed the car until he'd pulled into a spot near the front of the practically empty lot. He threw the car into park before turning to look at her, an excited look in his eyes.

"I don't know if I should tell you. It'll probably make you want to kiss me again," he said jokingly, although Mary could sense his eagerness. His arrogance. Like he thought she was dying to kiss him.

 _Not._

"You'd have to put a gun to my head for me to do that," Mary replied, biting, but Matthew took it in stride. "Why are we here?"

"Come on, let's go in and see," he said, flashing her a smile and opening the driver's side door. She scrambled out of her side before he had the chance to open it for her, in no need of his chivalry when she'd been doing everything for herself over the past year.

"Are we breaking in to steal something for NASA? Is the base a secret holding safe for the president's rubies? Are we going to meet President Eisenhower?" Mary questioned as she followed after Matthew who walked briskly towards the entrance.

"You're so full of shit sometimes," he said with a laugh and Mary found herself smiling.

"Come on, we're here, so just tell me why," she begged again as he opened the doors, pulling out his wallet as they crossed to the front desk.

"You'll see," was all he said.

Mary groaned as he flashed his NASA badge and they were allowed to pass through another set of double doors.

"Is it a secret astronaut club?" she asked, following Matthew down a hallway until they reached a door that read 'changing rooms.'

He ignored her question, pushing through the door and disappearing inside. Mary hesitated for a moment before following after him.

The large room was empty except for lockers along the walls and a line of benches down the center of the room. On the end of the nearest bench lay two green flightsuits, both with 'M. Crawley' stitched above the chest pocket and the Air Force insignia on the other side. Two pairs of flight boots, both black and shined to perfection, were on the floor beneath the bench.

Mary's heart pounded hard, as though it was trying to escape from her chest.

"What's all this?" she asked, eyeing the suits and the smaller pair of boots that she knew would fit her perfectly. She turned her head and Matthew grinned.

"I know it's been awhile since you've last been up," he said. "Well, in the front of the plane, anyway."

"Oh, my God," Mary exhaled, feeling like a little girl. "You're serious? We're flying?"

Matthew nodded. "Yep, squared it away this afternoon while you were dress shopping with the gals."

Mary rolled her eyes at his choice of words, but could hardly contain her excitement at the prospect. If she had known Matthew was cooking something up, she would have been more cooperative when he first tried to coax her into the car.

"I bet you want to kiss me right about now, don't you?" he asked with a wag of his eyebrows.

Mary pressed her lips together, inhaling through her nose before releasing it slowly.

"You're pushing your luck, Crawley," she said, grabbing one of the flight suits. She kicked off her shoes and pulled it on over her clothes.

"Aren't you going to get hot in all that?" he asked, unbuttoning his shirt.

"This isn't a free show," she replied, sitting down to tug on the boots. "Besides, the quicker I'm ready, the easier it will be to beat you to the cockpit."

Matthew hurried to pull on his own flight suit, apparently eager not to lose.

"What? Do you think you'll make me be in the jump seat this time?" he asked, stepping into his boots as Mary stood.

"Um, I think so," she said, heading for the door, although she had no idea how to get to the hanger. "If I remember correctly, you flew last time."

Matthew was on her heels in a heartbeat, taking her arm.

"You don't even know where you're going," he teased, pulling her in the other direction.

Mary sighed, shrugging him off.

"Take me and then we'll see," she said as they made their way through the corridors.

"How about we flip for it?" Matthew asked once they'd reached the hanger and were making their way to the tarmac.

"No way, it's definitely my turn," Mary insisted, her pulse racing as she saw a Convair F-102 just waiting for them on the runway. She could practically feel the controls in her hands already.

"I don't recall agreeing to taking turns," Matthew retorted as they stopped by the plane.

She turned to him.

"You don't agree to turns, that's what fair," she snapped back. "You flew last time I was at Edwards and now-"

"Who told you life was fair?" he asked with a chuckle.

Mary somehow refrained from smacking him, rolling her eyes instead.

"Last time I checked, it was pretty fair to you," she said. Matthew snorted, but she continued. " _You_ get to go into space, you got your wife back without even trying to make amends. Or even apologizing. You get a happy little family for all the world to see. Lately, all life has been is fair to you."

"Well, what about-" he began, but Mary sensed he was going to bring up his sob story about the Marines again and she cut him off.

"If I want a history lesson, I'll looked it up at the library," Mary said.

"I wasn't going to bring up Hawaii again, but now that you mention it, I think that was more fun for me," he said. "You at least weren't acting like a nag."

"A nag?" she questioned, indignant. "God, you're such a child!"

"Well, life seems pretty unfair right now, too, when I'm just trying to do something considerate for my wife," Matthew replied, aggravated. "I know how much you've been aching to go up again. Can't we just have a nice time?"

"And it's only gonna be nice for you if I'm just sitting there staring out the window, finding shapes in the clouds?" she questioned.

"Oh, come on, Mary," he groaned. "We've got to get used to being around one another again, you and I. Do you really want to have an argument about this?"

"I want to fly the damn plane," she said, narrowing her eyes. She turned away, staring at the plane with her arms crossed. "It's not like you haven't been having in the time of your life at NASA. Why can't I have a little fun?" She shot him a look over her shoulder, brow furrowed.

Matthew frowned, biting his lip as he stared her down. And then he broke into a smile and Mary's heart did a stupid summersault. _God_.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked, her irritation flaring up. It seemed Matthew was trying his hardest to get on her nerves today. And most days.

"I know how to settle this," he said, smug.

" _I_ get to fly?" Mary asked, squaring towards him again and lifting her hands questioningly.

" _Come and kiss me_ ," he said.

"W-what?" she stammered, so surprised that her mouth fell open at his request.

"Kiss me, babe," Matthew insisted, taking a few steps forward, hands outstretched.

Mary stared blankly at him, which Matthew apparently took for agreement as he placed his hands on her waist.

But she pushed him away quickly, in no hurry to kiss him again or give him any satisfaction on that score.

"Like hell I will," Mary said. "God, you're so infuriating, Matthew Crawley! You think I'm going to pay you to fly this plane with a damn kiss?"

"Christ, I was just teasing," Matthew said, reaching into his flight suit for a quarter. "Fine, we can flip for it."

"Give me the quarter," she insisted and he passed it to her.

"You gonna flip it?" he asked with a grin. "Because you always toss it so damn high, it'll still be in space when I get up there."

"I'm going to call Anna to pick me up," Mary said, stalking away with the quarter in-hand.

"Oh, come on, baby," he moaned, following after her.

Mary stopped so suddenly that Matthew almost crashed into her.

"Stop calling me that," she demanded, voice hard.

"Baby?" he questioned. "But you love that."

" _Babe_. _Baby_. God, Matthew, get your head out of your ass for five seconds! You haven't called me that in over a year and nobody's around to hear you say it, so stop," she demanded. "Save it for the reporters."

"You keep calling me 'honey bear' and 'hot shot' and 'sweetie'," he complained. "How's that any different?"

"When did I ever call you by those names before, Matthew? Jesus, do you only pay attention when you're the one talking?" Mary sighed, heading back inside again.

"You don't need a quarter to make a phone call," Matthew said, trotting after her. "It's only gonna cost you a dime. I want my change."

"The fifteen extra cents are payment for you behaving like an ass," Mary shot at him, retrieving her shoes from the changing room without removing the flight suit. "Somehow I don't think it's enough compensation."

"Come on, don't be like that," Matthew groaned, following her out to the lobby. "If it means so much to you, I'll let you fly the goddamned plane. I'll sit in the jump seat like a good little boy, picking out shapes in the clouds if you want."

Mary stopped again, pressing her lips together in a forced smile.

"You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl, Captain Crawley. But I'd rather walk back to the hotel then spend another minute alone with you."

And with that, she stomped off to find a pay phone, feeling strangely satisfied by the dumbfounded look on her husband's face. If a bit childish all the same.

* * *

 _Thoughts?_


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you so much for reading this story and sticking with it in spite of the angst. I'm having a lot of fun writing it still and I'm glad most of you seem to be enjoying it. Since I start school this week, I'm not sure how regularly I'll be able to update (it's my last semester of grad school and I have to prep for my exams at the end of the semester and read about 20 books along with class), but I hope to post at least every other week. Please bear with me on that!_

 _This chapter is for the wonderful **cc-weaver** ; I hope it brings a smile to your face. :)_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

 _August 21, 1959_

"That fight must have been some doozy yesterday," Rose said, taking a seat beside Mary on the beach.

"What fight?" Mary asked, her eyes flicking to Anna where she stood nearby, talking with Mabel and Lavinia. Mary's heart rate accelerated prematurely as she worried that the other woman had been spreading the events of the previous evening around, not that Mary had told her much, or that even Mary's private discussion with Anna in the car two days before was now common knowledge. Something she didn't need.

The women and children had gathered at a spot facing Wallops Island, just off the coast of Virginia, enjoying the sand and sunlight. Gentle waves crashed on the shore, the water shining in the sun. The site was where NASA's first fuel rocket would be tested, with the men meeting on the island to oversee final preparations for the launch. The families had arrived an hour before it was due to take place, although Mary was glad, for it allowed her to escape from Matthew sooner. He'd been such a pest after arriving back at the hotel the previous evening, she couldn't wait for the launch to call him away.

"Don't worry, Anna didn't tell me a thing. Though she did have to excuse herself from our game of cards to pick you up," Rose replied, lighting a cigarette. "But Atticus heard Matthew stomping around next door at...I'd say it was two in the morning. Does he know that behind our bedroom wall is your bathroom? Or how to use the bathroom quietly?"

"He was just doing it to wake me up," Mary said, declining Rose's offer for a smoke with a raise of her hand. "Which he achieved."

"Was he drunk? He was making so much racket next door, Atticus thought he was in Korea again," Rose said, blowing out a stream of smoke. "It's like MacArthur was shouting direct orders at him to push past the 38th parallel single-handed. Although I can't imagine how one would do that in an airplane," she offered with a laugh.

"No, he was just being an ass," Mary replied, propping her elbow on her knee. She leaned her chin against her palm. "As usual. Sorry he woke you up."

"Like I said before, _ass_ -tronauts," Rose agreed and Mary laughed. "God, with all the noise he was making it sounded like he was trying to go to sleep in the bathtub."

Mary didn't say anything, instead fixing her eyes on the island in the distance. She could hardly see anything moving near the rocket, largely due to the sunlight reflecting off the water. She kept focusing her gaze in that direction anyway, afraid to meet Rose's eye. The silence was deafening.

"Mary?" Rose asked after she failed to respond, apparently taking her silence as an affirmation.

"You know things have been rocky since Edwards," Mary muttered finally, turning her head to watch as Susan played tag with a few of the other little girls. "Ever since-"

"He _still_ hasn't told you what happened?" Rose questioned, shocked. "You'd think that if it wasn't what we _all_ think it is, he'd tell the truth. At least to you. Even Atticus hasn't gotten a peep out of him and, believe me, I tried to coach him on wearing a man down. I had years of practice. But nothin'."

Mary scoffed, still hurt that her husband had remained so silent on the subject. And a little annoyed that Atticus had even tried to get it out of him. It wasn't any of their business, although Mary was at least grateful that Rose cared enough about her to try. She knew she needed friends.

"Matthew would only say something if it makes him look good, trust me," she said with a sigh, looking at Rose again. "Tell me you'll keep this between us."

Rose raised both her eyebrows, as though she found Mary's request insulting.

"As long as you promise not to tell the other wives that I snore," she said. "Mabel'd love to get a load of that. Bet she looks like a fairy when she sleeps."

"I wouldn't dare. I've seen you go after spiders in your house," Mary agreed and Rose laughed, bumping her elbow against Mary's. "I know how vicious you can be."

"Well, those little bastards have it coming. How dare they come into _my_ house. And, of course, your secret is safe with me," Rose said.

"What secret?"

Both women looked up to see Sybil, who smiled cheerfully as she approached.

"Oh, Rose was telling me she doesn't like the way Atticus had his hair cut last week," Mary fabricated, the words spilling out easily. Lying, to the other wives and the press, had grown more natural over the past four months, a trait Mary hated in herself.

"Well, that isn't exactly a secret," Rose joked as Sybil sat by them.

Sybil laughed.

"Oh, don't I know it? Tom's hair looks like they used a lawnmower on it. I guess the wives aren't going to be consulted on anything, even if it affects us. And considering I have to look at his hair the most, I'd like to be asked even if they're going to ignore me," she said with a sigh, fixing her eyes on the island. "Not much longer to go."

"I'd say it's only-" Rose began, glancing at her watch.

"Oh, my God," Mary said, suddenly standing, her eyes fixed on the island.

In the distance, the Mercury spacecraft fired into the air.

"But...it's not even time yet," Sybil said, shielding her eyes as the rocket was propelled upward.

It rose for nearly twenty seconds before crashing haphazardly into the water, which Mary judged to be about a mile from the launch site. The other wives had gathered nearby, looking concerned and worried as they stared out at the choppy waves. Further down the beach, the children had watched for a few moments, cheering excitedly until the spacecraft plummeted into the water.

"Was that supposed to happen?" Rose asked, looking to Mary. She shook her head, knowing the craft or launcher had malfunctioned, since she'd asked Matthew to explain the details of the launch to her over breakfast. Which had tried to resist, but Mary wore him down. At least she could get _something_ out of him.

"Something must have went wrong," Mary said, feeling queasy.

"They're really going to send a man up in that?" Lavinia questioned, glancing around at the others for support. She looked to be on the verge of tears.

"It's what the tests are for, I'm sure," Mabel voiced, and Mary sensed she was trying to remain calm rather than share any worry she felt. That they all felt. "This one didn't work, so they'll just make some adjustments and have another-"

"And blow a man up?" Edith asked, as though Mabel's take on it was rather unfeeling. "That could have been my Michael in that thing!"

"There are risks, of course there are, but with the proper research-" Mabel continued, but her voice trailed off and Mary sensed the other woman's worry, although a pair of sunglasses obscured her expression.

"We all knew there would be risks," Mary voiced, hoping her own fears remained hidden. "But Mabel's right. NASA knows what they're doing. This is what these tests are for."

 _For the most part_ , Mary added silently to herself, although she couldn't shake off her disquiet. _I hope._

"Of course we knew there were risks, but I thought they'd know what they were doing," Lavinia said shakily.

"At least there wasn't a dog in that one," Anna offered, although it was a weak attempt at finding a bright side Mary noticed, as not even Sybil was smiling.

"I've got to get back," Edith said hurriedly, as though returning to the hotel to wait for her husband would speed up his arrival after the failed launch. She gathered up her children and headed for the cars.

"My guess that man's going to be in for an earful," Rose muttered to Mary as the group began to break up.

"Aren't they all?" Mary questioned.

"I'm not sure how NASA can even justify putting a man into orbit after what happened to the Russian dog Laika. Are they going to euthanise the men, too, like they did that poor creature?" Rose asked as Mary waved Susan and George over to them.

"I'm not sure that's plausible. They can blame the Russian's design flaws on the Russian program, but these are NASA's failures. Although I'm sure they can blame it on the manufacturer," Mary replied as the children approached.

"Mommy, was it supposed to do that?" George asked as Mary took Susan's hand.

"No, George, it wasn't," Mary told him. "But NASA will learn from it's mistakes."

"Like my science project?" the little boy questioned, innocent.

"Yes," Mary said. "Although this is a bit different than an exploding potato."

As she met Mary's eye, Rose looked dubious.

* * *

Mary paced back and forth in the room, so anxious for Matthew to return to the hotel following the failed launch that she hardly knew what to do with herself. She had no idea what she'd say to him, but she couldn't disguise her worry anymore.

After getting the kids dinner, Cassandra Bates had asked if Susan and George wanted to watch a movie on television with the Bates girls (she vaguely recalled hearing that it was something Disney, maybe _Snow White_ or _Cinderella_ ) and then spend the night on their floor. Mary had agreed, if only to get the kids out of the room and give her a chance to fret without an audience, for who knew how late Matthew would be out. Keeping a level head in the aftermath of the Little Joe launch was a challenge even considering her inconsistent feelings toward Matthew in the past few days. After he was such an ass that he wouldn't let her fly the plane and kept ribbing her about that stupid kiss, she'd been even cooler than usual. Not that she'd been very fond of him over the past year in general. But half the time she felt as though he antagonized her on purpose, just to get her attention.

He was generally successful.

Finally, she heard the knob on the front door twist and signal Matthew's return to the room. She immediately sat down on the sofa, fixing her eyes on the television as a sitcom episode played. It was something she'd already seen before and couldn't care less about, but she forced a laugh as Matthew entered the room, looking harried and put out. He shut the door harder than Mary expected and she glanced up, surprised to see that he looked a little drunk.

"Working hard?" she asked and he sighed, practically stomping across the floor before disappearing into the bedroom.

Mary exhaled, immediately feeling like an ass herself as she heard Matthew banging around in the dresser, searching for God knows what.

She stood, questioning whether she should even apologize when he was so bent out-of-shape, but knowing that if she didn't do it immediately she would talk herself out of it.

"I'm sorry," Mary said upon entering the bedroom, but she immediately covered her eyes with her hands to shield her now naked husband from view. "Oh, my God, what the hell are you doing, Matthew?"

"Changing," Matthew grunted.

"But why are you naked?" she asked, peeking between her fingers as she heard a drawer open and shut, although Matthew's bare backside was still in full view. She hated the blush that crept into her cheeks.

"That's what you do when you're changing clothes," he replied, exasperated as he pulled on a pair of underpants. "God, always so surprised when I'm naked," he scoffed, turning to face her.

Mary dropped her hand, but looked at the ceiling rather than view his well-defined abs. The NASA training was doing too much good in that area. And in most areas, she'd noticed.

"You know that's not part of the deal," she said, detesting that she was having trouble keeping her eyes off his bare skin. It was like a magnet.

"Nothin's part of the deal except me sleeping in the bathtub, is that right?" Matthew scoffed, pulling a t-shirt over his head.

"This deal is for _you_ , so don't complain because you don't like that your fake wife won't let you share a bed with her. Or protests against seeing your naked ass without warning," Mary shot back, finally meeting his eyes. Matthew groaned.

"God, I'm going to bed," he said, sounding more tired than drunk. "I mean, to 'bath'."

Mary narrowed her eyes at his use of air quotes, but didn't acknowledge it.

"What happened with the launch?" she questioned, following after him into the bathroom.

"Knew I'd get a scolding for that. We all guessed the seven of you would be up in arms about it. Something screwed up, didn't it?" Matthew retorted as though her question was stupid. He picked up his toothbrush. "There will be an investigation into the accident, but Atticus guesses there was some sort of electrical issue. That's why there are tests. So we don't all blow our asses off. At least not off the first guy up."

He laughed at this, like it was some big joke.

"Do you have to be so blasé about this?" Mary asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. In the mirror she watched Matthew roll his eyes.

"There are tests. There are protocols. There are mistakes and then we fix it. It's science, baby, not some damn deity," he said with a mouthful of toothpaste.

"NASA's not your god?" she asked and she felt a shift in the air, knowing that her question had struck a nerve with him.

"Is that why you stayed up this late? To reprimand me for something I'm not even responsible for?" he asked, spitting out his toothpaste in the sink rather haphazardly.

"Attractive," Mary said, unable to stop herself from commenting. He was just being so irritating, she couldn't help it.

Matthew rolled his eyes again, stalking past her into the bedroom. Mary thought he was just going to retrieve the extra blanket and a pillow, but instead he pulled back the blanket from the bed and climbed onto the mattress, pulling the blanket up to his chin as Mary stood motionless on the floor.

"What are you doing?" she asked after he didn't move.

"Getting some damn sleep for a change," he said with a relaxing sigh, enjoying the comfort too much for Mary's liking.

She continued to stare at him, but he didn't get up, didn't even acknowledge her glare.

"That is definitely not part of our deal," Mary said, moving to stand at the foot of the bed.

"I know," Matthew said, with a smile that made Mary want to slap him. Or kiss him, she couldn't decide. _That stupid smile._ His fingers held on tight to the blanket, as though sensing she would tear it off of him if given an opportunity. "But a man's gotta get some rest. And it's not exactly a secret that you've got me sleeping in the bathtub. Atticus-"

"Heard you last night? I know, I know," Mary sighed, frustrated and tired. "But if you would have been quieter-"

Matthew sat up, still holding on to the sheet.

"Oh, well, _excuse_ me for being pissed that my wife ruined a perfectly nice evening of flying by being so damn bullheaded," he said.

" _I'm_ bullheaded?" Mary asked. "Ha!" she scoffed. "Who was the one who wouldn't let me have my turn?"

Matthew pushed the blanket aside in order to sit up.

"Yes, you are," he shot back, heated. "God, you're so stubborn."

Mary changed the subject, not wanting to get into an argument about who was more stubborn. She _knew_ it was him.

"Aren't you even worried about the launch today?" she asked. "You could die, Matthew. Don't you realize it?"

He stood, frowning.

"And since when have you cared about that?"

"Just because I didn't want to be your wife anymore, it doesn't mean I'm not concerned for the father of my children. Matthew, they think we hate each other. Sometimes I think we do, too," she said, sighing as she sat on the edge of the bed.

Mary felt her husband's eyes on her, but he didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, Mary turned her head to look at him and he spoke.

"Come on, Mary, you know I don't hate you," he said, shaking his head. "I'm just...frustrated."

"And I'm not?" she asked.

"I know you are," he replied. "And I know I haven't exactly made it easy on you. But _I never would… I never could despise you_."

Mary sniffed, dropping his gaze.

"I knew you'd never be content with just being a housewife," he added. "Don't think I didn't know that from the moment I met you. And then you kicked my ass in that first engineering test and there wasn't any doubt anymore."

Mary had to laugh at this. "It's only because you were lazy and didn't study."

"Until I had something to prove," he replied, giving her a small smile.

"That you were smarter than a girl?" she questioned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"No, that I could keep up with the smartest person in the class," Matthew said, earnest.

"You don't know how nice it is to hear that _you_ know I'm smarter than you," Mary replied, a weight lifting off her.

Something as simple as teasing made her feel less hopeless with him, as though at some point things could improve between them. If not return to normal, at least something better than constant arguing and hurt feelings.

"You know I don't hate you either," she added.

Matthew nodded.

"I'm sorry, Mary. Yesterday was such a disaster and today was a nightmare. God, we thought it would work! An unmanned launch was that first step. If that first attempt was successful then we'd be that much closer to space. _Space_. Beating the Russians. My God, we can all taste it, Mary," he said, his eyes burning with a passion that once would have incited admiration in her. Now she didn't know what to feel. "I know there are risks, we all knew that. But-"

"But we're military wives, is that what you were going to say?" Mary asked.

"I can always die," he said, releasing a sigh. "So can you flying that little plane of yours."

Mary rolled her eyes, but she wasn't angry like before. Even though he did call it a 'little' plane.

"I know how to fly a plane," she insisted.

"I know you do, but things can always happen," he said, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, Mary realized it wasn't because he was aggravated at her. "There are always risks, Mary. But sometimes those risks are worth it."

She sensed he meant something more, but she didn't question him on it, not ready to discuss what other risks he meant.

"I'm...sorry. About yesterday," she admitted.

"You know I'm the one who screwed that up?" Matthew asked grabbing one of the pillows off the bed as he stood. "I'm the one who needs to apologize."

"Well, I won't argue with you there," she retorted.

Matthew winked at her and Mary felt her stupid, uncontrollable heart skip a beat.

"Next time, the controls are all yours," he added.

"What makes you think I'll invite you along?" she questioned, tugging the pillow out of his hand and hitting it against his hip. He laughed.

"Oh, I know you, of all people, don't need a babysitter. You're the most self-sufficient person I know," he said, swiping the pillow away from her, a grin on his face.

"Unlike someone else I know," Mary teased. "Can't even boil water on the stove without setting off the smoke alarm."

"Hey, that was only one time!" he protested with a laugh.

Mary tilted her head, giving him a knowing look.

"Only because I didn't want the house to burn down at your hands. You may be an astronaut, Captain, but you're a horrible cook. Hopefully no one asks you to make spaghetti in space."

"I'd be able to handle it if it was over a Bunsen burner," Matthew countered.

"Maybe you should pay more attention," Mary replied. "But once we move in to the new house, I guess I could take a chance on you making dinner once. Unless NASA has something against men in the kitchen."

"Well, we don't tell them everything," he said, tucking the pillow under his arm. "I'm gonna get some sleep."

Mary nodded, but Matthew hesitated.

"I know you worry about me. About all this," he said, and Mary sensed he meant more than just NASA and the space program. "But I'm glad you're here, Mary."

Mary swallowed.

"Thanks," she said, not trusting herself to say anything more.

"Goodnight, Mary," Matthew said, retreating into the bathroom.

"Goodnight," she replied.

Hearing Matthew situate himself in the tub, Mary slipped under the covers on the bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. As she thought about what Matthew had said, about being glad she was there, she had no idea how she felt. She wasn't glad, not exactly, but she knew she wouldn't rather be in Dayton. Working, bored, and lonely, the kids missing their father. Her missing... _something._

Whatever this was, Mary knew she'd rather be in Virginia than away from Matthew. Hiding from him and herself.

Not anymore.

* * *

 _Thoughts?_


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello, hello! I'm excited to be able to post this on the correct day since school started and I already feel a bit like I'm drowning. Hopefully the next chapter isn't delayed too long, but I can't make any promises, unfortunately. Please know that I haven't forgotten about this story and am still very excited about it, but my last semester of grad school definitely takes precedence._

 _Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, followed, or sent a delightful message to my Tumblr! I'm glad so many of you are still enjoying this story. :)_

 _This chapter is a bit of a change of pace from the others, but it was a lot of fun to write. Downton quotes used in this chapter_ _are italicized. Thanks again for reading!_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

 _September 1946, Honolulu, Hawaii_

"There's a girl in this class."

"What's a girl doing in an engineering class?"

"I dunno, maybe she's looking for a smart husband? _You_ better not talk to her though."

"Shut up, she'll hear you. Easy on the eyes though."

From where she sat near the front of the classroom, Mary clenched her teeth so hard she thought they might fall out. Nearly thirty male voices buzzed about her. their whispers not quiet enough to avoid her hearing. All of them seemed to be focused on her.

 _Just ignore them_ , she told herself, her face warming under the gaze of so many men. Although not from flattery that they were looking at her, but irritation and maybe, as much as she hated to admit it, a little embarrassment. She was the only woman in the class. Of course they'd notice her.

 _They'll get bored soon enough. Find something else to talk about._ But she silently wished the class would begin faster, that one of them would trip or provide any sort of distraction.

"Hey, honey, you lost?"

Mary lifted her head up from the engineering textbook she was reading to find a dark-haired boy in front of her, his hands resting on the table as he leaned toward her, clearly at ease. Fighting the urge to glare at him, she forced a tight smile. Her mother would be so very proud of her ladylike behavior. At least for now.

"No, actually I know exactly where I am," she said, playing with her necklace as a distraction. And tried not to think about strangling the boy with it.

He smiled, apparently believing that his attempt at flirting had worked on her so quickly. She sensed the other men in the class were watching their exchange, probably trying to determine if it was safe to flirt with her or not.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing in an engineering class anyway?" he questioned, perching on the corner of the desk.

At this Mary did roll her eyes. Her mother wasn't here to scold her and she'd already lost her patience. She'd fought tooth and nail to be allowed in this class, had almost gotten a perfect score on her SAT. She wasn't about to let this jerk get away with patronizing her.

"Learning about the application of scientific and mathematical principles to practical ends, like the design, manufacture, and operation of efficient and economical structures, machines, processes and systems," she said bluntly.

The boy looked amused at this, although Mary had hoped it would put him off. _Take a hint_ , she thought in irritation.

"That's cute. Did you read that in the textbook, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Why, you know, I did, actually," Mary said, purposefully batting her eyelashes at him. "See, _I_ can actually read. Can you?"

A collective hush settled over the rest of the class and the boy was now looking less sure of himself, a sight Mary enjoyed immensely.

"You just playing around until you find a husband?" he asked, apparently looking for any excuse to humiliate her now that his ego had been stung, despite the fact that she'd never laid eyes on him before.

 _What an ass!_ Her inner monologue was irrate.

"I'm actually here to learn, you little-" Mary began bitingly, but she was cut off.

"Hey, buddy, why don't you leave her alone? She's got just as much right to be here as you do."

Mary's gaze was pulled to the new speaker, a blond-headed boy with piercing blue eyes which turned steely as they looked at the other guy. Her "rescuer" stood next to Mary's chair, clearly at ease in spite of his intervening for her. Something she didn't really appreciate.

"I'm perfectly capable of-" Mary started again, but now it was like she didn't even exist, as it seemed to be a battle between these two over who would lose their staring contest firt.

"I was just being friendly," the first boy said, challenging the other one. "Keep a better eye on your girlfriend."

"Excuse me, but I am not his-" Mary interjected, but she continued to be ignored. And interrupted.

"Why don't you take a seat? Learn a thing or two," the blond boy said, refusing to back down.

With that, the first boy sauntered away to his seat, the whispers resuming among the rest of the class. Mary was livid as her defender took the chair next to hers, leaning back in it as though he were a hero, hands folded behind his head.

"A thank you would suffice."

Mary turned her head at his arrogant voice, her eyes meeting this stranger's for the first time.

"For what? Interrupting me a thousand times? I had it handled," she said, silently wishing he would go away, sit anywhere else but beside her. She glared at him, hoping that would suffice.

"You did not," he said with a laugh, his voice teasing now, although Mary wasn't amused in the slightest. "Although I'm sure you'll whip all of our asses come exam time. Already read the textbook and it's not even the second day of classes."

Mary looked away.

"Are you making fun of me?" she asked, relieved that the professor had finally entered the room and would soon be saving her from this pointless chit-chat.

"Not at all," the boy said, and the sincerity in his words pulled Mary's gaze to him again. "I'm fascinated by you." He rested his chin on his hand as he gazed at her, a playful smile on his lips that Mary did not return.

"Mm, like a strange creature in the zoo," she said, humorless, but finding it harder to remain so under his gaze. "Or perhaps a unicorn?"

"No, more like discovering a new star and wanting to learn more about it," he replied, serious, but his eyes were lively.

Mary couldn't help but laugh at this.

"Does that line actually work?" she asked with a snort, in disbelief that such words had been uttered to her.

"I don't know, I've never tried it before," he replied, smiling at her.

Mary pressed her lips together to keep from grinning back, although she desperately wanted to. She had a feeling her eyes betrayed her, because the boy now grinned.

"Please settle down," the professor called out, sounding tired. "I'd like to take role before we begin."

Mary looked away, her heart thudding unevenly as the rest of the class quieted, waiting to hear their names be called.

"Crawley, Matthew," the professor said without shifting his eyes from the class list.

"Here," said the boy at Mary's side, his at ease tone drawing her gaze to him once more.

 _Matthew Crawley_ , Mary thought silently as he smiled at her again, the sight both irritating and strangely adorable.

 _Oh, God._

After class, Mary had taken her time packing up her things even though she was on a tight schedule. But so had Matthew.

"Do you have an eidetic memory, Mary?"

Mary looked up, pulling the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

"What?" she asked, finally heading for the door with Matthew at her side.

"An eidetic memory? Like a photographic memory. I'm pretty sure you answered 80% of the questions in class today without giving any of us a chance to think," Matthew said.

"Boys think?" she questioned, unable to stop herself from smiling as she spoke. Matthew laughed and Mary's heart felt lighter at the sound. Apparently he enjoyed her slight jab at his sex.

"Only some do," he replied, following after her.

"Which ones?" she asked, teasing.

"Probably just me," Matthew said, looking proud of himself.

"Only you, wow, what a state the world must be in," Mary retorted. "How on earth were you blessed with such talents and the rest of the men left behind?"

"Well, I was in the Marines for an entire year," he said as they left the building and walked outside, greeted by warmth and sunshine. "That might have something to do with it."

"Only a year? What happened?" Mary asked, surprised by her own interest in him.

"There wasn't much need for me after the war ended," Matthew told her, looking a little disheartened. "Not a lot of action in the Presidential Honor Guard."

"I thought you looked a bit young to be splashing onto the beaches with Eisenhower on D-Day," she said.

"My mom would have murdered me if I'd even tried to sneak in as a 16 or even 17 year old," he replied, a smile on his face once more.

"Well, at least you tried," Mary told him. "And that surely counts for something. Although you only answered one question correctly in class, so I'm not surprised they let you go."

"Are you giving me a hard time?" he asked, still grinning.

"If you have to ask, I must not be doing it right," was Mary's retort, playing with her locket again. But she was trying to distract herself from him.

"You're quick, Mary," Matthew said.

"Someone has to be," she teased, but glanced at her watch to check the time. "I've actually got to go," she said, feeling rushed but knowing she had to leave.

"Me too. Another class?" Matthew questioned.

"Flying class," Mary said. "At Hickham."

"Wait? You...fly?" he asked, and Mary couldn't tell if he was more shocked or impressed with this disclosure.

Mary lifted her eyebrows, before replying, "I teach."

Matthew looked like you could knock him over with a feather. She couldn't believe how cute he looked.

"Wow, that's…"

"I know," she replied with a smile, turning on her heel to leave. "See you later, Crawley," she said over her shoulder.

All the way to the airfield, it felt like she was floating.

* * *

 _October 1946_

"Mary, that guy keeps looking at you."

"Who?" she asked, following her friend's gaze until her eyes settled on Matthew Crawley, although Mary didn't find herself surprised when she saw him. She'd guessed he would be there, it seemed like half the school was, but she was surprised that they'd run into each other so quickly. His gaze didn't waver as she met his eyes, but remained just as intent as ever, causing her heart rate to accelerate. "Oh, of course," Mary said, turning her attention back to Elsie, ignoring her racing pulse.

The two friends sat on the beach in the midst of a party for first year students. Some were just talking, others were dancing or drinking bottles of Coca-Cola and root beer. Mary and Elsie had arrived together and were now watching the other students, watching for people they knew as the sun settled lower on the horizon. The sun looked as though it were dipping into the water as the sky darkened in the east, hues of dark blue mixing with softer pinks and oranges.

"Did you do something to him?" Elsie asked, the flames from the bonfire flickering across her face.

"I'm sure he's just irritated that I ruined the curve in intro to engineering," Mary replied, raising her eyebrows. Elsie laughed at this.

"Well, I'm sure it must've been a shock since most of that math looks insane," Elsie said. "I wonder how any of you don't have grey hairs yet."

"He just spends too much time goofing off and not enough time studying," was Mary's only response.

"And you know this because?" Elsie questioned, still looking at Matthew. "He's pretty attractive."

"He's not that good-looking," Mary insisted, although her words didn't sound very convincing as Elsie cast her a knowing look. "And he's a pain in the ass."

"Don't swear," Elsie insisted. "It's not ladylike. Oh, he's coming this way." Her voice was practically a squeal.

"God," Mary groaned, although she felt her stomach knot in thrilled anticipation. She hated to admit how much she liked this man. How much she couldn't get him out of her head.

"Mary."

His voice was like fresh honey mixed with sunlight, warm and delicious.

She had to play it cool.

"Oh, hello," Mary said, hoping her giddiness didn't show as she met his eyes. "Enjoying the party?"

The corner of Matthew's mouth lifted in a half smile and he twirled an empty cola bottle between his fingers. Mary glanced away, trying to look disinterested in the conversation, although she felt her cheeks warm under his gaze.

"I'd have a better time if you'd agree to dance with me," he said and Mary looked up again, only moderately surprised by his confidence. She'd come to expect it from him as a matter of course in the last month.

"Are you asking me to dance?" she asked. Beside her, Elsie laughed, but pretended to cough in order to cover it up. _Nice save_ , Mary thought.

"Wasn't that obvious?" Matthew asked with a smirk. "To someone as brilliant as you, I thought it would be."

"Still sore I ruined the curve for you?" Mary questioned, unable to keep herself from smiling any longer. Or outright flirting. "What did you get? A C?"

Matthew rolled his eyes, but he laughed all the same.

"Actually, it was a B-plus, you know," he said. "Above average."

"You certainly are that," Elsie interjected and Mary shot her a reproachful look, but Elsie wasn't paying Mary any attention and looking as though she'd dance with Matthew in a heartbeat if he asked her.

"How about just one dance?" he asked. "If I step on your toes, you don't have to agree to any more."

Mary bit her lip, considering for a moment until Elsie gave her arm a shove.

"Go on, then," her friend said hastily.

"Fine," Mary agreed, getting to her feet. "But you'd better not scuff up my shoes or there will be hell to pay."

"I wouldn't expect anything else from you," he said, walking with Mary past the bonfire to an open space where other couples were dancing to a Frank Sinatra record.

As they stopped, Mary noticed that Matthew looked unsure of himself for the first time since she'd met him.

"You do know how to dance, right?" she questioned, smiling softly at him as _Oh! What It Seemed To Be_ began to play.

"Of course I do," Matthew retorted, immediately placing a hand on her waist as his other hand held hers. He pulled her close and Mary held her breath. "I just didn't know if this song was too slow," he said, voice soft in her ear.

Mary finally sucked in a breath, tilting her head up to look at him better.

"Just slow enough," she managed to respond, feeling lightheaded. She wondered if she'd be able to follow the steps now that she seemed to be intoxicated by being held by him.

Matthew smiled again at this, Mary's heart pounding erratically at the sight. She had no idea why this man had such a hold on her, but she found that she didn't mind one jot.

"So, how have the flying lessons been?" he asked after a few moments of dancing, which Mary discovered he was actually quite skilled at. Her heart beat faster.

"None of them are what I'd call standouts," Mary said. "Colonel Crawley asked me to keep an eye out for any talented men."

Matthew's eyebrows lifted suddenly.

"Colonel _Crawley_?" he asked with a scoff Mary didn't immediately understand. "You know my dad."

"Oh, I-I had no idea-" Mary began, noticing Matthew's change in demeanor. Cautiously, she continued. "I just never thought about it, I guess."

Matthew scoffed, but recovered quickly.

"Hope he's not giving you too much of a hard time. He doesn't usually have much time for other people."

"He's not, not really," Mary said, although she conveniently left out the conversation she overheard where the Colonel was discussing Mary's gender at length. Matthew probably already knew what his father thought about those things.

"I'm sure he's being a bit of an ass," Matthew countered. "It's in his blood."

"A family trait?" Mary questioned in jest, brushing her fingers across the back of Matthew's hand. She gave Matthew a small smile and watched as he relaxed again, the sight of his returning smile doing nothing to ease her already unsteady heartbeat.

"Only a little, I hope," he said gently and Mary found herself closer to him than she had been, her waist nearly against his hips. "But enough about that. I never properly congratulated you for kicking my ass in that test."

Mary dropped her gaze, wishing she hadn't brought it up in the first place.

"I know most men don't like it when girls are-" she began, but Matthew interrupted her.

"Smarter than them?" he asked. Mary looked up. "Well, that's just too damn bad for them, isn't it? They're missing out on knowing an amazing woman like you."

She blushed, her face so warm she would normally have been embarrassed, but she could only smile.

"I never expected you to admit that I'm smarter than you," she replied, biting her lip as he grinned at her.

"For some reason I can't help myself," Matthew replied, his hand playing with the fabric of her shirt. She'd opted for a blouse and pants rather than a dress, to Elsie's disapproval, but she didn't care now. "Do you...you want to maybe go for a walk?"

The last notes of the song signaled its end, but Mary didn't want it to be over yet.

"Matthew Crawley, I think you're just trying to get me alone," Mary said, mock surprise, although she found herself thrilled at the prospect.

Matthew gave her a wink. _God, he's adorable._

"You know me so well, Mary," he said, dropping his hand from her waist, but he didn't release her hand from his.

"Hardly," she shot back, walking with Matthew down to the shore away from the other students. The water lapped against the sand, softly illuminated in the moonlight. "You're just very easy to read."

"Hopefully my story's not too boring," Matthew asked, his fingers giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Mary tilted her head to the side, giving him a small smile.

"So far, I'd say it's intriguing," she replied.

They could barely hear the music so far from the party now, but Matthew stepped up to her again, his hand gently pulling her waist closer to his.

"Oh, really?" he asked, his voice softer, less playful than before. "You're still an enigma to me."

"How so?" she questioned, trying to remain clear-headed in spite of the fact that Matthew was even closer to her now, his cologne mixing with the saltwater in a way that made her head swim.

"Women are always a mystery to men," he countered and Mary laughed, laying her free hand on his shoulder.

"Like I said, do you think I'm a unicorn?" she asked, teasing.

"Alright, you're definitely something more realistic than that. Maybe, like, a complicated calculus problem," he replied in jest, easy in her presence.

Mary liked that.

"Well, you're not so dumb," Mary said, smiling. "I'm sure you could figure it out if you put your mind to it. Apply yourself, Crawley."

"You think so?" he asked, leaning closer, as though drawn to her by a magnetic force.

Mary nodded and Matthew held her gaze for a few moments, Mary not even realizing they'd begun to dance again.

"Only if you like a challenge," she murmured, her thumb trailing across his collar.

"You forget, I was a Marine," he replied. "But do you?"

"Well, _I like a good argument_ ," she told him.

" _If you really like an argument...we should see more of each other_ ," Matthew said.

They regarded one another for the space of a few erratic heartbeats on Mary's part, the color rising in her cheeks at such outright flirting. She was glad the moon was their only source of light, for he couldn't see her blush.

"I wouldn't be opposed to that," she breathed.

Matthew's eyes flicked down to her lips before meeting her gaze again, Mary not at a loss as to what would come next, longing for it so completely she could hardly stand the anticipation.

"Yeah?" Matthew murmured, unhurried as he slowly moved closer to her.

His lips hovered near hers for a few lingering moments, Mary holding her breath as she waited. And then, when she couldn't any longer, Mary kissed him first.

He kissed her back, his hand releasing hers to cup her face, unnecessarily holding her to him, as she made no move to pull away. Instead she brought herself closer, her fingers grasping the hair at the nape of his neck. His lips were soft against hers, so much softer than she thought they would be.

Somehow, it didn't feel real, standing on the beach with Matthew Crawley getting her first proper kiss. Not one that was quick, or to prove something to other people, but private and made her toes tingle and put her stomach in knots.

And Mary _knew_.

After what could have been hours or mere seconds, Matthew pulled away, but didn't go far, resting his forehead against hers.

"Wow," was all he could say and Mary couldn't speak at all, although she silently agreed as she held his gaze, her heart thudding maddly.

Unable to say anything at all, Mary kissed him again.

* * *

 _Thoughts?_


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I swear I've been working on it little by little, but I had to read a nearly 900-page book for one of my classes and it's taken me something like two weeks to do it. Ugh, seriously it's a massive book, I barely made it out alive! Anyway, I'm going to stick to this update every two weeks thing (hopefully) for as long as I can. I don't want it to get longer than that, but school happens. Please bear with me!_

 _Thank you for your continuing interest in this story and for waiting so long for this next update. Your patience and kind words mean the world to me._

 _Quotes in this chapter come from a few separate episode of "The Astronaut's Wives Club" (I think episode 1 and maybe 6? I can't remember), and those are italicized as always._

 _Thanks for reading and enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

 _September 1959_

"George, get out of my room!"

"It's my room, Susie! I'm bigger, so I get the bigger room!"

"Mommy said this one was mine!"

"No, she didn't. You weren't looking, she pointed at the other one!"

"Nu-uh!"

"Yes huh! That's my bed and my dresser!"

"Is not!"

"Is so!"

Mary squeezed her eyes shut, massaging her temples as the sounds from her children's screaming match echoed through the house. She guessed the neighbors down the street could hear the yelling.

She sat on the floor of the kitchen of their new house in Virginia, sorting through the pots and pans after having told George and Susan to locate their boxes and begin unpacking that morning. They had flown in the evening before, but Mary had been too exhausted to even think about going through the boxes that had arrived before they did, so she bought McDonald's for dinner and the three of them slept on the floor of the living room. Matthew had stayed at the hotel for another night, although he was expected home that evening after finishing with work for the day.

She almost didn't get up, half-expecting George or Susan to run into the kitchen with tear-stained cheeks, but after a few moments of delay, Mary stood to go investigate. As she righted herself, Mary heard the sound of glass shattering.

"God damn it," Mary muttered under her breath, hoping to refrain from any outbursts at her children as she hurried down the hall to the back bedroom. "What is going on in here?" she asked when she reached the doorway.

Her eyes surveyed the bedroom. Two pairs of terrified eyes looked up at her, but George's gaze darted to the window and Mary pressed her lips together as she saw the broken window pane.

"What on earth have you two done?" Mary asked, shooing them away from the glass scattered on the floor. She was glad they were hardwoods.

"George tried to take my doll from me and I let go and it flew through the window," Susan explained, eyes watery in fear.

"What the-?" Mary began, carefully stepping over the glass to gaze out the window. On the grass outside lay Susan's plastic doll, whose white lace dress was now covered in dirt, her arms sticking up in the air as though she'd just done a horribly executed gymnastic stunt. Mary couldn't help but laugh.

George and Susan looked at one another, prompting George to pipe up, "So we're not in trouble?"

Mary covered her mouth to get her laughter under control.

"Oh, no, you're definitely in trouble," she told them, wiping a few tears from her eyes. "And this _is_ Susan's room."

"Told you!" Susan shot at her brother in triumph.

"Hey," Mary interrupted, voice firm once more. "As punishment, you have to help each other unpack. Start in George's room while I clean up in here."

"But-" George began, as though spending more time with his sister was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.

"No arguments or you won't get any dessert for a week and I'll take away your television privileges," Mary said, giving her children a stern look.

In a huff, George pushed past Susan who followed after him in a heartbeat, both apparently anxious to have ice cream after finishing their peas that night.

On her way to retrieve something to sweep up the glass, Mary peered in at them, relieved to see that George and Susan were unpacking George's toys from a box and placing them neatly in the toy chest. She knew that would keep them occupied for a while.

After finding a broom and dustpan in the kitchen pantry (apparently left by the previous owners, based on the cobwebs all over them), she headed for Susan's bedroom again, but a knock on the door forced her to stop. Mary groaned.

"Who the hell?" she muttered, voice trailing off as she walked to the front door. Looking out the peephole, she saw Rose and Sybil standing on the front porch looking cheery and holding dishes. Wishing the car wasn't sitting in the driveway, visible to the entire street, Mary opened the door begrudgingly.

"Mary!" Sybil said. "We saw your car and thought we'd pop over and see how the unpacking was going."

"Oh, it's, uh, fine," Mary said, unconvincing.

"We brought macaroni casserole and lasagna," Rose said over the top of her baking dish. "I know how much you hate to cook."

"I don't hate it," Mary said. "It hates _me_."

Rose smiled and Mary sighed.

"Come on in," she said, stepping aside to let the two women in. "The kitchen's through there."

Giving up dealing with the glass for a few minutes, Mary followed them back to the kitchen, watching as they put the food in the refrigerator. She was a little embarrassed by the state of the kitchen, and the entire house for that matter, with open boxes strewn across the floor and nothing put away. Sybil noticed.

"Do you need any help?" she asked.

"My mom is here watching Kent. She helped us move last week and hasn't left since," Rose said, raising her eyebrows at Mary. She knew Rose's relationship with her mother was strained at best and sensed she needed a break.

"And my girls are at school," Sybil said, as if that settled it.

"I know, George has his first day tomorrow," Mary said. "His first day of first grade. I'm going to be a mess."

"All the more reason to let us help you," Rose said, lifting a box of plates onto the counter. "What's the broom for?"

Mary tried not to roll her eyes as she said, "George threw Susan's doll through the window."

"Oh, God," Rose said, covering her mouth. Sybil snickered.

"I was just about to clean up the glass in Susan's room before you got here," Mary explained. "And then cover the broken pane with cardboard until I can replace it."

"I'm on it," Sybil offered, picking up a roll of packing tape from the counter and tearing off a flap on one of the cardboard boxes.

As she and Sybil left Rose unloading dishes in the kitchen, Mary was surprised to find that she was actually relieved that they were there. Relieved to have friends even if she didn't want to be there.

* * *

"Oh, my God, listen to this," Rose said, taking the drink Mary offered her.

With no more boxes left to unpack, thanks to Rose and Sybil's amazing speed, the ladies sat at the kitchen table while Susan took her afternoon nap and George was playing quietly in his room.

"Should we be drinking in the middle of the day?" Sybil questioned as Mary set a gin and tonic on the table for her.

" _But...half your life is in the day_ ," Rose said, a little taken aback. "Just enjoy yourself."

Mary laughed, sitting at the table after finding some cheese and crackers for them.

"Wait, what were you saying before?" Mary asked, taking a sip of her drink as Rose lit a cigarette.

"Oh, right, right," Rose said, flicking ash off the tip of her cigarette. "So, you know how we live across the street from the Gillinghams?"

"I saw they already have flowers planted out front and they're in full bloom," Mary commented.

"Not where I was going with this, but I guess Mabel hired a gardener," Rose shot back, mildly amused by Mary's observation. "As I was saying, we have a perfect view of their front lawn and last night, when I was in the kitchen getting a glass of water-"

"And not being a busybody at all," Sybil interjected with a smile.

"Do you want to tell the story?" Rose asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She cast the same perfunctory look at Mary who kept her mouth shut as she tried not to laugh.

"No, no, continue please," Sybil said, finally taking a sip of her drink.

"So, as I was drinking the water, perfectly in the right to gaze out my _own_ window, I happened to look out and who should I see traipsing across the lawn at three in the morning? Tony," Rose said.

Mary frowned.

"So? Those men come back late all the time."

"Yes, but Atticus was home by six yesterday evening. They were all done by then," Rose insisted.

"Tom was, too," Sybil said with a nod. "What on earth could Tony Gillingham be out doing until three in the morning?"

Rose looked knowingly at them.

"The better question is... _who_ could he be doing?" she asked suggestively.

Mary rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure there's an explanation," she insisted, finishing her drink in one gulp.

"It's not the first time I've suspected something," Rose said. "Atticus sometimes tells me about these parties that the boys go to, apparently there are women there. Although he and Tom spend hours talking about electrical plans for the capsules while some of the others…"

Mary's eyes darkened.

"Parties?" she asked, her stomach in knots.

"Oh, not Matthew, I'm sure," Sybil insisted, innocent. "Tom speaks so highly of him."

Mary forced a quick smile before turning her attention to Rose, hoping to avoid any more discussion of her own husband and their marital problems.

"So, what about Tony?" Mary prompted.

"Well, Atticus let slip how Tony always seems to slip away with some young thing. Last week, when they were at the Cape, in Florida, they didn't see him the _whole_ night," Rose said with emphasis.

"Do you think Mabel knows?" Sybil asked, looking intrigued and scandalized at the same time.

"If she does, I'm sure she won't do anything," Rose replied with a shrug.

"But what kind of message does that send to the others?" Mary asked in irritation, her own wound stinging deep. "That they can just...cheat and get away with it?"

"Lady Mabel is not going to raise any sort of fuss. You should know better than that," Rose said. "She wouldn't want to give anyone the impression that something is wrong in her marriage. Besides, what's she going to do? Get a job and raise those kids on her own?"

Mary rolled her eyes at how close that was to home.

"He shouldn't be able to just-"

"Oh, honey, Mabel _is too damn smart to get a divorce. No offense_ ," Rose muttered, taking a drag from her cigarette.

Mary pressed her lips together in disbelief and Rose shut her eyes, instantly sensing her error.

"Why would Mary be offended?" Sybil asked, helping herself to some crackers and cheese and looking between the other two ladies.

"God, I'm sorry," Rose said to Mary.

"What's going on?" Sybil asked.

Mary sighed, deciding to be straight with Sybil. She hated how many people knew about her and Matthew, but she didn't see a way around it. Rose had already peaked her interest and there was no telling what Sybil would dream up if left to her own imagination.

"I had the paperwork when Matthew was accepted into Mercury, but since the divorce wasn't filed, he didn't really lie," she explained. "About _that,_ anyway. _But_ _I'm only back for his career._ "

"Golly, what happened?" Sybil asked, shocked.

"Matthew _groomed the neighbor's poodle_ ," Rose chuckled. "Allegedly," she added with a raise of her eyebrows at Mary.

" _It's not funny_ , Rose," Mary insisted, standing to refill her glass. She added some extra gin this time. " _He cheated. He is a cheater_."

"You still don't know that," Rose reminded her as Mary sat down again.

Confused, Sybil asked, "But...how do you _not_ know?"

Mary rubbed her forehead. "He claims he didn't cheat, but you tell me what a woman who wasn't his wife could possibly be doing spending the night in his apartment?" she questioned, propping her elbow on the table before resting her chin on her palm.

"Maybe-" Sybil began, as though there could be a reasonable explanation, but gave up in seconds. "Well, what did he say about it?"

"Oh, that's the best damn part," Mary said. "Sorry," she added, hoping Sybil wasn't offended by her swearing. "I only found out about it because the secretary at Edwards told me she saw a blonde woman leaving his apartment the previous morning, thought it was me. Luckily, she thought it was his sister, which I didn't correct her on. But, amazingly, when I confronted him about it, he didn't deny there was a woman there, but he said he couldn't tell me who the woman was."

"He _can't_ tell you?" Sybil asked, confounded. "But why?"

Mary shook her head.

"I wouldn't know," she said. "He only claims that he can't. Probably because he won't look like a hero any more."

"Why don't you just believe him then?" Sybil asked.

"If he didn't cheat, then he's been lying," Mary insisted, indignant. "Or at least not telling the truth. How could I ever be with someone who doesn't tell me the truth?"

"We all lie sometimes," Rose interjected, finishing her own drink. Mary huffed and Rose rolled her eyes. "Oh, _I am sorry, but life is long, and that man of yours is beautiful_. Forget about what happened in California, Mary and get back to the fun of married life."

"How can I forget about it? How can I forgive him for lying to me?" Mary asked.

"You don't know that he even lied," Rose said. "Just...ask him about it."

"You know I've tried. I've questioned him until I'm blue in the face, but, God, that man is so obstinate," Mary sighed. "Don't act like this is the only problem we have, either, I'm sure we could fill a book with all of our issues. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for NASA."

"Everyone has problems, honey," Rose replied. "You just gotta ask him at the...right time."

"When's that?" Mary asked, frowning.

Rose raised her eyebrows.

"Right after sex always works for me," she said, a teasing note in her voice. Sybil covered her mouth to hide her laughter.

Mary shook her head.

"Never gonna happen," she insisted, deadpan.

Rose cocked her head to the side.

"Just an idea."

"No way in hell," Mary said.

Rose wagged her eyebrows and Sybil broke into a fit of giggles.

 _Okay, I'm not_ that _grateful to have friends anymore_ , Mary thought to herself in annoyance.

* * *

After putting the kids to bed in their new rooms, with George anxious for school the next morning, Mary decided to shower after the long day of unpacking and spilling her secrets to Sybil. It had been exhausting, in spite of their assistance in unpacking. She'd shared more of herself with the two ladies than she'd ever intended and she hoped Rose wouldn't let anything else slip out.

Mary undressed, pulling on her robe before heading to the connected master bathroom. She turned on the water, but only a trickle spilled out of the showerhead.

"Damn," Mary groaned, too tired to attempt to fix the malfunctioning faucet that night.

She turned off the water, sighing as she headed for the hall bathroom separated from George's room by the linen closet. At least she knew all the plumbing worked properly in there after giving the kids a bath earlier. She might as well take advantage of it for herself.

Reveling in the hot water and pleased to finally wash off the grime from a day of unpacking (and a little drinking), Mary stayed in the shower longer than she'd intended, quietly humming to herself as the water washed over her. She tried not to let her thoughts drift to her conversation with Rose and Sybil, although she couldn't seem to stop herself. She hoped both women would keep the divorce to themselves, Mary knew she didn't need more people finding out about it. Or blaming her for what was wrong in her marriage.

And if Tony Gillingham was carrying on with other women when he seemed to at least _like_ his wife, what sort of mischief was Matthew getting into when she wouldn't even sleep in the same bed as him? She doubted he'd tell her even if she asked, as he did seem to enjoy keeping things from her, but she hated that he might be out with other women. Not that it would surprise her much since it seemed he'd done it before.

But she was surprised that she felt a twinge of jealousy over it, a feeling she didn't want to entertain but couldn't completely push away.

Finally feeling clean in body, although not in her thoughts, Mary got out of the shower. After turning off the water, she fetched her towel hanging nearby and began to pat herself dry. As she propped one foot up on the tub to dry her leg off, the bathroom door opened.

Mary turned her head to find Matthew standing in the doorway, his eyes bulging as he stared at her completely naked body, apparently unable to look away.

"OH, MY GOD!" Mary snapped at her husband, surprised and appalled by his sudden appearance.

Mary attempted to hide behind the towel as quickly as possible, a blush creeping into her cheeks, but she knew he'd already taken in the full view. She was fairly certain every inch of her turned red, her heart palpitating erratically from the shock.

"What the hell, can't you knock?" Mary asked angrily when Matthew didn't respond, haphazardly wrapping the towel around herself. Matthew turned his head away, as if he hadn't just seen _everything._

 _God_ , Mary thought.

"I thought you were one of the kids," he said blushing instantly, incapable of being nonchalant, his voice a little shaky. He looked as though he was about to drop the suitcase in his hand, which Mary recognized from his lengthy stay at the hotel. It was as if he was embarrassed to have seen her naked, or perhaps it was something more. His face was as red as hers felt.

"You just walk in on them in the bathroom?" she asked bluntly.

"They're four and almost seven," Matthew said, chancing a glance at her from the corner of his eye. "They can hardly be trusted to put away their clothes, let alone be in the tub by themselves."

Mary fleetingly thought of Susan's doll flying through the bedroom window, but she was too flustered to share it with him.

"Well, it's after nine, so they're in bed," she retorted, hugging the towel close. She knew she wouldn't trust them alone in the bathroom either, but she would probably knock to warn them she was coming in. At least...if she thought about it.

"There's no reason to be so embarrassed. I've seen it all before," he reminded her, offhanded, but hardly helping to put Mary at ease.

She frowned, retrieving her robe from the back of the bathroom door and quickly pulling it on over the towel. She tied the belt taut around her waist, satisfied she was now hidden from his view.

"That's hardly an excuse," she shot back, heading for the bedroom. "It's not as though you've seen anything recently."

Matthew followed after her, apparently not taking the hint to go away.

"Sorry, it's not like I planned it," he said, sitting on the end of the bed to take off his shoes.

"You could've fooled me," Mary retorted, grabbing her pajamas off the dresser and shutting herself in the master bath. She locked the door just in case.

"Why weren't you using the shower in here?" he asked. Matthew's voice was now on the other side of the door, apparently wanting to be sure she heard him.

"The showerhead isn't working right," Mary said, buttoning up her nightshirt. She threw the towel on the drying rack and hung up her robe. "I'm going to fix it tomorrow."

"I'd be happy to take a look," Matthew told her. "I live here too, you know."

Mary rolled her eyes even though she knew he couldn't see her. She was still flummoxed from his unexpected viewing of her naked body.

"I thought NASA didn't want their precious astronauts to have to take care of things at home. In their eyes, it's the wife's job to make the house run smoothly, is that right?" she questioned, removing the clip that had been holding her hair up to keep it from getting wet in the shower. She swung open the door to find Matthew leaning on the doorframe. "Even if that means ruffling up our curls?" she added.

Matthew snorted.

"I know you'd never let something as trivial as your hair get in your way of doing what you want, Mary," he said giving her a smirk.

"How astute of you," she replied, walking past him to sit on the bed, a few boxes of clothes the only thing left littering the floor.

She was slightly less frazzled now that she was dressed and covered, but every memory of Matthew staring at her brought back another unsolicited blush. She tried not to think about it. And hoped he wouldn't notice.

"You unpacked pretty quickly," Matthew observed, rifling through the dresser in search of his things.

Mary had thought it would be easier to keep his clothes in there and not the spare room in case company came to town. And it would avoid any questions from other people if it became known.

"Rose and Sybil stopped by to help," Mary told him, waiting for the right moment to tell him that they wouldn't be sharing a bed here either. But Matthew spoke first.

"So, I assume I'm in the spare room?" he asked, tucking a pair of pajamas under his arm as he looked at her.

Mary hesitated, wondering if she could chance asking him about Edwards again. But all the other times had failed, so why should she even try?

"I think that's probably best," she said, her voice quiet as she debated with herself.

"Is...is something wrong?" Matthew asked. "Other than the usual, I mean."

"Sybil knows about the divorce," Mary admitted, looking up from an examination of her toes. One unexpected revelation at a time was better than laying them on him all at once, Mary thought.

Matthew frowned at her.

"Why would you tell her that?" he asked slowly.

" _I_ didn't tell her actually, it was Rose who let the cat out of the bag," Mary told him. "I only told her the rest so she wouldn't imagine things."

"Okay," he said after a few moments of torturous silence on Mary's part.

"Really?" Mary asked. "I figured you'd be pissed that more people know now."

"It was bound to come out sometime, I guess," Matthew said, much calmer than Mary expected. "We're still married. What's NASA going to do?"

"Ground you, maybe?" she questioned, not willing to tell him how _much_ Sybil now knew. She wasn't ready for that argument yet.

"They'd never dream of it," Matthew replied, confident. "I'm the best they've got, I'm sure I'll be the first up."

"Well, if they can fit your big head in the capsule," she retorted with a snort, glad to be moving on to other things. She wasn't ready to push him about Edwards again since it only ever ended in an argument. And she was beginning to doubt she even wanted to know what happened. The truth could be so much worse than what she had been imagining for the past two years.

Matthew rolled his eyes at, but smiled and Mary knew she didn't want to bring another sticky subject up when they were finally getting along. Even if he had walked in on her naked.

"Oh, by the way, George starts school tomorrow," she added as he was about to head for the bathroom.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked.

"No, I'm sure I can handle it, it's only first grade. Besides, wouldn't the earth explode if you didn't show up for work on time?" she questioned, surprised he'd even offered. And a little touched.

"We've only been working on the heat shield lately and modifications for the Little Joe capsule," he said. "I'm sure I can be a little late for this."

Mary was floored. He'd missed George's first day of kindergarten the previous year while being at Edwards and had barely apologized for it, not that Mary was shocked he wasn't there. Now he actually wanted to miss work?

 _Who is this man?_ she thought.

"George would love that," she said, trying to hold in her grin.

Matthew gave her a closed-lip smile, his eyes thoughtful.

"Me too," he said, heading for the bathroom. He stopped suddenly, turning to look at her. "Oh, and, sorry about not knocking earlier. It won't happen again."

"Thank you," Mary said, again floored by such consideration from him.

He nodded before disappearing into the bathroom.

After a moment, Mary got up, walking down the hall to peek into both of the kids' rooms. She checked on George first, who was sleeping on his back, mouth wide open in a way that so resembled his father, Mary couldn't help but smile. Moving down to the next door, she looked in on Susan, feeling content as the little girl cuddled with a stuffed teddy bear while the cardboard on the window pane blocked some of the moonlight.

 _This might actually work_ , she thought to herself, surprised by such thoughts. That she was so willing to give it a real chance.

It had been so long since she'd felt it, but standing in the doorway watching Susan sleep, Mary felt as though her entire body had flooded with warmth.

It was something like hope.

* * *

 _Thoughts?_


	8. Chapter 8

_WOW! I'm so very sorry it's taken me so long to update. Seriously, school has been insane and hectic, I'm kicking myself for making such a crazy promise back in August to update every other week. For now, I'll do what I can, but please be patient with me, it's definitely going to be slow until I graduate in December...and have to find a "real" job, eek!_

 _Thank you for all your lovely reviews on the last chapter. I hope you will continue to bear with me in the slowness of this story (both the output and the unearthing of details), I love a good, slow burn. But I think it's going to be fun still and I hope to move the timeline a long a little quicker when I actually get more chapters out. Again, I'm sorry this is taking so long! :)_

 _Anyway, thank you again for continuing to read my story. Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

 _December 1959_

"I spoke to my mother," Matthew said.

He sat at the kitchen table with George, the seven-year-old working on a science project for school while his father assisted him with electrical equipment and the sharper scissors.

Mary turned away from the stove, stirring the pot of spaghetti as the water began to boil. Her brow furrowed at this news.

"What?" she asked, confusion on her face.

"My mother. She called yesterday afternoon when you were getting groceries and we spoke," Matthew replied, cutting his way around some letters to display the title of George's project.

"What about?" Mary corrected, arching an eyebrow. She sincerely hoped it wasn't what she thought. She didn't know if she could take Isobel and the Colonel during a Virginian Christmas along with her own parents.

"She asked if we had any plans for-"

"Don't say it," she begged him.

"-Christmas," Matthew finished, his own eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Don't you want my parents to come see us in our new home?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "You know that isn't it at all," she countered. "George, go clean up before dinner. You can finish up after we eat."

With a momentary of protest shut down by Matthew's stern urging, George stomped off while Matthew cleaned up the project.

"What is it, then?" Matthew asked her once they were alone and the table was cleared.

" _My_ parents are bringing Granny with them," Mary said, now stirring the pasta sauce to keep itfrom burning. "She's getting older and they keep going on and on about how it could be her last Christmas, although I'm sure she'll outlive all of us."

Matthew laughed at this. "I wouldn't doubt it," he agreed. "But if they're coming, why not let old Colonel Crawley and Isobel drop on by? And your family will get a hotel, I'm sure. They'll only see each other for a few hours each day."

"But you know how Granny is around your parents," Mary replied pointedly. "Don't you remember our wedding? It's like a competition over who served President Wilson better in the Great War. You know Granny likes to pretend like she was there driving a tank herself in the Meuse-Argonne."

"I'm still not clear on what Violet actually did in 1917," Matthew said in amusement. "I got the impression she knitted scarves no one wanted to wear and yelled at the unpatriotic when they wouldn't buy war bonds."

"See, this is why we can't have them together," Mary insisted. "Plus, I'd rather not hear from your mother about the divorce. I'm sure she's going to hate me to the end of her days."

Matthew looked down at his shoes. "That's not true," he said after a moment's hesitation.

Mary frowned as she stared at him. "And...why not?" she asked slowly.

"Because," Matthew said, getting to his feet. He crossed to the refrigerator and retrieved a beer, popping the cap as he leaned against the counter. "Because I didn't tell them about it."

She continued to watch him as he took a swig of the beer, blinking a few times before she spoke again.

"Why wouldn't you tell them?" Mary asked finally, gripping the wooden spoon tightly in her hand.

Matthew paused, exhaling before he responded. "You know how I hoped to change your mind about it. I didn't know we'd need NASA to change it for you."

Mary forced herself to not roll her eyes this time. She didn't need to feel guilty about being there for his career, not when she'd been upfront with him in the first place. It was the only reason she was there. The only reason those divorce papers had been shredded before they'd moved to Virginia.

"But what happens when they do find out? Which they will-I know how much your father hates spending money. They're going to want to stay in the spare room and how do you expect to keep it from them then?" Mary asked, crossing her arms, some water flying off the spoon. She watched as Matthew pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at this, but she ignored him. "And _my_ parents know. At least Mama does and I know she hates keeping things from Papa."

Matthew sat on the counter. "Well, I'm sure Robert hates me now all the same. Although was he ever very fond of me?"

She sighed, turning back to the stove to see to the pot as it started to boil over. She turned down the temperature on the burner, giving the water a good stir.

"Are you serious? You know you're the son he's always wanted. When I was born he nearly cried telling his friends that I was a girl," Mary said, casting a dubious look at her husband. "He was so happy when he found out George was a boy he passed around cigars like Mama had just had a son."

"Your father loves you," Matthew said and Mary looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the cooking once more. "And I'll bet news of the divorce has at least cracked his affection for me."

"You? The man who became a flight commander at the age of twenty-four?" she questioned.

"I know Robert thinks the military is for boys who never grew up," Matthew replied.

"Oh, really? Would he say that about President Eisenhower?" Mary asked.

Matthew eyed her for a long moment, taking another drink of his beer. "Are you trying to make me back down from letting my parents come visit?" he asked. "They are getting on in years, like Violet, who knows how much time-"

"God, you're irritating," Mary shot back, lifting the pot from the stove. She crossed to the kitchen sink to drain the water before adding the marinara sauce. "Fine, let them come. I can't wait to see what your mother thinks of my placement of the Christmas decorations and how well you and the Colonel get along. It's like your relationship with your parents is just a bed of roses."

"It's not like we've seen them for over a year. What could they possibly say?" he asked, slipping off the counter as he approached Mary who stood at the stove again. "Just talk to _your_ parents about keeping a lid on the divorce and we won't run into any problems."

Mary rolled her eyes again, turning to face him. "How little you understand how in-laws work. I know we haven't had a lot of experiences with them mingling together, but do you really think your mother is going to be over the fact that the kids lived in Ohio for most of their lives? That's quite a long toddle from Hawaii, although babies frequently make transcontinental trips and then swim the Pacific Ocean," she snipped.

Matthew frowned. "What are you getting at?"

She gave him a knowing look. " _You_ think Granny gets jealous when other people talk about their war experiences, you're going to get a nice surprise when Isobel starts talking about how little she's seen her grandchildren in the past two years."

"Planes fly to and from Hawaii, if I'm remembering correctly," Matthew said.

"Yes, but I wasn't exactly keen to let your mother fly in for a visit after I found out you-"

Her voice trailed off and Matthew simply looked back at her, his lips pressed together. Mary dropped his gaze, her face warming from sudden embarrassment.

"-after our falling out. And I'm fairly certain I haven't heard the last on that score."

"You can't keep her away forever," he said finally.

"Fine, let her come," Mary gave in, throwing her hands up again, water from the spoon hitting Matthew in the face. She covered her mouth to hide a smile as he wiped his hand across his damp face. "But I expect you to keep an eye on your mother."

"I'll handle Isobel if you handle Violet," Matthew consented as Susan and George entered the room in anticipation of dinner.

"No one can handle her," Mary replied. "Except perhaps Susan. You know Granny has a soft spot for our little girl."

"Then we'd better make sure she behaves like an angel," Matthew said, scooping Susan off the ground and into his arms. The little girl squealed.

"I'm _always_ an angel, Daddy," Susan said with a smile. "Mommy, is dinner ready?"

"In a minute, peanut," Mary told her.

"Are Gran and Pop-Pop coming for Christmas?" George asked, pulling out his seat at the table.

Mary cast a look at Susan and Matthew, both of whom smiled. "It would seem so," she replied. "Once your father calls your Gran back and tells her."

"Thanks, babe," Matthew said, kissing Mary's cheek and swooping away with Susan still in his arms before she even knew what had happened.

Mary turned back to the stove, spoon gripped tightly in her hand once more, teeth clenched.

* * *

"Matthew! Matthew, help me change the sheets on the guest bed," Mary implored, frantic as the minutes ticked closer to the arrival of Matthew's parents two days before Christmas.

Her own parents and Violet would fly in the following morning, leaving them one day to get used to Isobel and the Colonel's presence before the rest of them arrived for festivities. She was grateful her parents had found a hotel, for the house was already feeling too small even before the Crawleys had arrived.

"Matthew!" she shouted again, finally catching her husband as he walked past.

He poked his head in the guest bedroom, looking amused as Mary tossed the pillows to the floor and began to tear off the old sheets he'd been using.

"What's this about?" he asked, untucking the nearest sheet corner from beneath the mattress.

"We need to put new sheets on. I don't want your mother smelling your cologne on these and finding out we're not sharing a room," Mary told him.

"So we _will_ be sharing one when they're here?" he asked as she unfolded a clean sheet and handed a corner to him from across the bed.

"You can't very well bunk with George," she said, short. "It's your fault your mother doesn't know about the divorce yet, but I don't want her to find out about it now. She would never blame you for it and I'd never hear the end of it. And just imagine the damper it would put on Christmas."

"What you're saying is, we've got enough problems as it is?" Matthew asked, a teasing note in his voice as he tucked the sheet around the mattress.

"Oh, that's definitely true," Mary said, spreading out the clean comforter as Matthew changed the pillow cases. "I hope the kids don't bring up our constant bickering."

"We don't constantly argue," Matthew protested. "For instance, I completely agree that my parents shouldn't find out about the divorce."

Mary raised her eyebrows and snorted. "I don't think that really demonstrates we're on friendly terms," she replied.

"What about earlier when I said meatloaf was fine to have for dinner tonight?" he asked, throwing the pillows on the mattress.

"If Isobel doesn't decide to cook for us," Mary said.

She knew they had been on better terms lately, but she was anxious that they would now have an audience to their marital problems. One that included Matthew's mother-who Mary felt didn't like her much-and Matthew's father-who didn't like anyone much.

It seemed like a recipe for trouble.

"I know you're worried, but don't be," Matthew insisted as Mary picked up the old bedclothes. "They'll just be happy to be here. Well, Mother will, at least. Dad's another story."

Mary nodded, but sighed. Her head snapped up as the doorbell rang.

"Oh, God," she said rushing out of the room to dispose of the bedclothes in the laundry room. She stuffed them into a basket as Susan and George tittered in the living room.

"Is it Gran and Pop-Pop?" Susan asked in an excited voice as Mary appeared.

"Maybe, peanut," Matthew said, giving Susan a grin before casting what he seemed to think was a reassuring look at Mary as he crossed to the front door.

Mary adjusted the manger scene on the end table as George and Susan bounded to the front door to see who was there, herself anxious that something would be noticeably out-of-place. Matthew opened the door to reveal Isobel, who looked thrilled, and Reginald, who looked moderately less so.

"Merry Christmas, my darlings!" Isobel gushed, wrapping her grandchildren in a bear hug.

"Gran!" Susan and George squealed at the same time as Isobel gave them each a kiss. Susan broke away from her grandmother first, approaching Reginald rather cautiously.

"Merry Christmas, Pop-Pop," she said with a shy smile as she stood in front of her grandfather.

Surprisingly, Reginald knelt down in front of Susan, reaching out to tap her nose.

"Merry Christmas, little bug," he said, his usually stoic features breaking into an all-too rare smile for Susan. She giggled, throwing her arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek.

Isobel had released George who saluted Reginald as usual, gaining a return salute and a head pat for the grandson.

"Matthew, my darling boy, how are you?" Isobel asked, embracing Matthew. Mary forced herself closer to the rest of them, knowing a perfunctory greeting would be given to her as well.

"Good, Mother," he replied, kissing Isobel's cheek.

"Well," she corrected. "We're both so proud of you!" she beamed, finally releasing her son. Matthew cast a glance at his father, who was in the process of bringing the suitcases into the house. They locked eyes for a moment and Mary saw her husband's shoulders tense as he nodded and Reginald looked away.

"Colonel, why don't I show you where you'll be staying?" Mary offered, hoping to slowly ease the two men back into their tense relationship.

Reginald nodded, and Mary motioned for him to follow her. She cast a glance at Matthew as she passed, giving him an eyebrow raise before heading for the guest room.

The Colonel was his usual silent self, laying out their bags on the top of the dresser without so much as a word from him as Mary tried to make light conversation, only succeeding in eliciting a few grunts in response to questions about the flight and the drive from the airport. Mary was glad to return to the living room, for at least Reginald softened up a bit after he sat on the armchair and Susan crawled into his lap with a picture to show him.

"Can I get anyone some coffee?" Mary offered, anxious for something to do and to escape from the others for a bit. She wasn't sure she could handle three days with the Crawleys. "Maybe some cake? Tea?"

"Oh, dear, let me do that," Isobel said, bounding to her feet from her place beside Matthew on the sofa.

"No, no," Mary said, backing toward the kitchen in case Isobel rushed past her, "you've had such a long flight today."

"It's no trouble at all," Isobel insisted, perpetually cheerful as she made her way to Mary. "I'm happy to help. I know it must be difficult for you now that you're on your own with two little ones full time."

Mary wasn't sure she could tactfully dodge her mother-in-law without hurting the older woman's feelings, so instead she gave in.

"Well, thank you," she managed, not feeling very thankful as she smiled at Isobel and retreated into the kitchen, feeling rather backed into a corner.

Mary had Isobel cut slices of pound cake and laid them on dishes while she busied herself with the coffee pot, slowly filling it with water, measuring the perfect amount of coffee grounds, and waiting for the water to heat.

"How are you liking it in Virginia?" Isobel asked, making conversation while Mary knew there was silence between her husband and son and the living room.

"We like it fine," Mary couldn't think of much else to say about the state. "There's a couple we know from Matthew's training at Edwards, the Aldridges, they're very nice," Mary explained, hopping not to venture further into that subject. Isobel had other plans.

"Such a shame you couldn't join Matthew in California much," Isobel turned, giving Mary a sympathetic look as though it must have been torture to be so far away from her husband. Mary refrained from laughing somehow. "Your mother must have depended on you so much for you not to go. I'm sure she was so grateful for your help while she was ill."

Mary froze, hand poised above the coffee grounds container. _Ill?_ She thought. _What had Matthew told his parents?_

"She was," Mary said, pressing her lips together in a quick smile. "But she's very well now." She knew she'd have to warn her mother of this apparent illness before a prolonged conversation with Isobel.

"I'm so glad to hear it," Isobel said cheerily. "I'm sure it must have been a strain being away from Matthew for such long stretches of time."

"It wasn't easy," Mary agreed, which was only partly true.

Isobel nodded, as though believing Mary's words.

"It's so nice that you're together again," Isobel crooned, searching through the kitchen drawers for utensils, which Mary pointed out to her as she found some mugs for the coffee while it brewed. "And it was just _so_ nice that Matthew called and invited us to come out here!"

Mary felt paralyzed for the second time that conversation, her fingers nearly slipping on the handle of a mug she'd just retrieved from the cabinet. _What the hell?_

Isobel barreled on, unfazed as she found the dessert plates. "It's so nice to see the kids and both of you, of course," her mother-in-law continued, giving Mary a fond smile.

"We're happy to have you," Mary managed, miraculously, gathering the needed number of mugs and two small glasses for Susan and George. "It's been such a long time."

Isobel nodded, looking rather sad as she poured coffee into the mugs and Mary took the bottle of milk from the refrigerator. She was right. It had been a long time since the kids had seen their grandparents, but that didn't give Matthew the right to _lie_ to her about how this Christmas visit came about. God, he was going to pay.

"I've been begging Reg to let us move back to the lower forty-eight. He's retired from the Air Force, it's not like we have any family out there in Hawaii, but for a military man, he hates moving," Isobel explained. Mary could relate.

"It would be nice to have you closer," she agreed, filling the smaller glasses with milk.

At this, Isobel's entire face lit up. "You don't know how wonderful it is to hear you say that, Mary, dear," she said, a bit teary-eyed. "Have I told you how lovely the house is looking? The Christmas decorations are so quaint."

Mary smiled, still suspecting that Isobel's compliment would be countered with an early morning wake up in which she rearranged all the decorations and added a few of her own. Just to make it more familiar, she would say.

After pulling out two trays to carry out the coffee and cake, Isobel took charge of the food while Mary handled the drinks.

"Reg takes his coffee black, just like Matthew," Isobel reminded Mary. "I'll have some cream for mine, dear."

"Of course, Mother," Mary said and Isobel flashed her another smile before heading for the living room, delighted squeals of her grandchildren greeting her, Matthew's pleased voice carrying through the doorway.

"Where's the coffee?" he asked.

"Mary will be just a moment," Isobel said, her voice scolding. "Don't be so impatient."

And Mary had an idea.

Childish, but oh so satisfactorily, Mary retrieved the sugar canister from the cabinet and a tablespoon. Choosing one of the mugs for Matthew (the one with the cracked rim), she dropped four heaping tablespoonfuls of sugar into his coffee cup, finally stirring the sugar into the dark liquid after the last scoop. With a grin, she replaced the sugar canister on the counter and then returned the bottle of milk to the refrigerator and instead locating the heavy cream. She poured a bit into two of the other cups, one for her and one for Isobel, replacing this bottle now.

"I'm on my way," Mary announced, lifting the tray off the table before walking toward the living room.

"Wonderful," Isobel said as Mary set her tray lightly on the coffee table, on top of the now-empty one Isobel had cleared of cake earlier.

Mary handed the drinks around, saving Matthew's for last other than her own drink.

"Here you are, dearest," she said, passing the chipped mug to him with a smile and a bat of her eyelashes that caused him to do a double-take.

He stared at her for a moment, and Mary couldn't tell if he thought she had poisoned the coffee after Isobel had left or if he was merely confused by her behavior. It wasn't likely he had heard his mother give him away.

"Thanks, babe," he said, still befuddled, but Mary dropped his gaze, taking a seat on the floor by the coffee table instead of on the empty sofa next to him. Isobel sat on his other side while Reginald had taken the easy chair, Susan bounding off his knee to drink her milk and have a bite of her cake.

After settling herself, Mary chanced a glance at her husband as he listened to his mother speak, absentmindedly taking a drink of his coffee. He choked on the liquid and Isobel looked startled.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked, reaching for a paper napkin on the table and passing it to him as he sputtered, clearly taken aback by the sugary liquid he had expected to be bitter. He wiped his lips, his eyes shooting to Mary, who had picked up her coffee cup to hide her mouth behind it. But she knew her eyes were dancing with laughter while Matthew's were dark.

"Fine," he said. "It was hotter than I expected."

"Well, be careful, _darling_ ," Mary told him, an almost imperceptible smirk passing over lips before disappearing at the word 'darling'. Her stomach felt like it had filled with lead at this term of endearment. _Shit_.

Matthew frowned at her for a moment before urging his mother to continue, his shoulders tense.

Mary couldn't decide if the later confrontation would be fun, or a veritable nightmare.

* * *

She was barely out of the bathroom, changed into her pajamas and teeth freshly brushed, when Matthew pounced.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, standing.

He had been seated on the corner of the bed, right across from the bathroom door, waiting for Mary after he'd changed into his t-shirt and sweatpants for bed. Now that they had to share for the next three nights, she couldn't exactly get rid of him.

"What?" Mary questioned, feigning innocence for as long as possible. She dropped her clothes in the hamper before turning to face Matthew.

"Why did my coffee taste like there was a cup of sugar in it?" he asked.

Mary tilted her head to the side. "That's a bit of an exaggeration. Maybe half a cup, tops," she conceded, crossing her arms.

"Mary?" he asked, hands up to show he was backing off.

She released a puff of air. "When were you going to tell me that you told Isobel that the reason I didn't move out to Edwards with the kids was because my mother was sick?" she asked, starting with the most perplexing one.

Matthew blinked for a few moments. "That's why you poisoned my coffee? Because I lied to my mother two years ago?" he asked, scoffing.

"It's because you didn't tell me that you lied!" Mary shot back. "Couldn't you have made up something less serious?"

"Like what? You know damn well there was no good reason I could give her!" he said, voice hushed but cross.

"Not one that would tarnish her view of her angelic son," Mary said, rolling her eyes as she walked to her side of the bed.

Matthew rolled his eyes too. "She called me one day and I was caught off-guard," he explained, dropping her gaze. "When I told her that, I didn't think...our argument...would last very long. Cora being sick was the only excuse I could come up with. I thought it would pass. When it didn't, I didn't know what else to do."

"You could have told her the truth," Mary replied, her nose stinging. She sniffed, pushing away her own feelings. She didn't want to do this right now.

"I'm sorry, I should have warned you," he said, shaking his head. "I guess I forgot about that stuff with Cora. I've had other things on my mind since then."

"It barely gives me any time to warn Mama," she reminded him.

"I can distract Mother when your parents arrive tomorrow to give you the chance," he offered, giving her a half smile. "And if she even told Dad, I doubt he was listening to her."

"I think he picks up more than you give him credit for," Mary replied, sitting on the mattress. Matthew sat too, but on the other side of the bed.

"If you say so," he sighed.

"Matthew, why did you tell me that Isobel called about Christmas?" she asked after a brief lapse in the conversation.

"She did call," he said, but Mary heard the catch in his voice this time.

"No, you called her," Mary corrected, turning her head to look at him. Matthew didn't meet her eyes. "Why didn't you just say so?"

He hesitated, finally looking at her after a long pause.

"I didn't want you to be angry with me about it," he said.

Mary looked away now, a bit surprised that _he_ would be afraid of what _she_ thought of him when he always seemed so unconcerned. Or at least played it that way.

"They're your parents," she said slowly, "they deserve to see their grandchildren."

"So you're not angry?" he asked, his hopeful voice stupidly drawing her gaze back to him.

"I'm angry you lied about it," Mary amended. She sighed. "How are we supposed to do this?"

He tilted his head to the side, confused. "Christmas?"

"Christmas with your parents is hardly the least of our worries," Mary replied, thinking over her earlier conversation. "Isobel wants to be closer to us, not that I blame her. It's been over a year since she's seen her grandchildren."

In fact, Mary knew it had been longer than that, but she was embarrassed by how selfish she'd been toward Isobel when she'd asked about visiting for Susan's third birthday. Matthew's alleged infidelity had been too raw at that time and Mary had managed to put her off, pretending to plan a visit in the summer, but never following through.

"She wants to convince your father to move stateside again."

Matthew raised his eyebrows. "Convince the Colonel to move when the military isn't involved? Best of luck to her."

"Matthew," Mary protested, turning to him on the bed.

"You think _I_ can convince him?" he asked with a snort. "The man hardly said two words to me while you girls were in the kitchen for nearly ten minutes. He doesn't mind the kids, but me?"

Mary had narrowed her eyes at the word "girls" but decided not to make a fuss about it.

"You're both so stubborn," she began, "but I know how important his opinion is to you."

Matthew scoffed at this, shaking his head, but Mary plowed on.

"And yours is equally important to him," she insisted, reaching over to place her hand on his shoulder. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers hovering over his arm, but gave in finally, issuing a gentle squeeze to his bicep. A bit of tension released from his shoulders at her touch and Matthew's eyes flicked first to her hand and then up to her face.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," he said, his eyes on hers. "I shouldn't have."

Mary managed a half smile, but she felt as though she'd absorbed some of the tension he'd released. Or maybe it was something more.

"You're right about that," she agreed, her voice unsteady.

Matthew's eyes flicked down to her lips for a brief second, the movement almost imperceptible and Mary didn't say anything else. She held her breath, willing herself to remain motionless while at the same time trying to force her hand off his arm. His eyes locked on hers again and Mary swallowed, surprised when he leaned forward, as though about to kiss her.

"Matthew," she began, but heard a knock at the door that interrupted her.

"Mommy?"

It was Susan's voice on the other side of the door, followed by another knock. Mary pulled her hand away from Matthew, shifting on the bed as the door opened a crack. She was glad nothing had happened, for multiple reasons.

"What is it, sweetie?" Mary asked as Susan shuffled inside, a teddy bear tucked under her arm.

The little girl's eyes were watery with tears. "I had a bad dream," Susan said, approaching the bed slowly, eyes flicking to her father, who she was clearly surprised to see in there.

Mary reached out to stroke Susan's hair. "I'm sorry, peanut," she said, gentle. "Do you want me to sit with you for a while?"

Susan shook her head, grabbing at the knee of Mary's pajama pants. "Can I sleep in here?"

Mary hesitated. She didn't often let either of the children sleep in her bed, a bad nightmare being a rare event and she more often could put either of them back in bed with a little bit of soothing.

Susan looked from Mary to Matthew, as though expecting one of them to give in more easily than the other.

"Peanut, I don't think it's a good-" Matthew began.

Mary interrupted him. "Just for tonight," she said, and beside her Matthew coughed. But Susan smiled, climbing onto the mattress and into the space between her parents.

"Goodnight, Daddy," Susan said, kissing Matthew's cheek before slipping under the quilt.

"Night, peanut," Matthew replied, standing in order to pull back the covers. He lay down on his back, his eyes fixing on Mary as she too got under the blanket.

"Goodnight, Mommy," Susan piped up in the quiet, her head on the corner of Mary's pillow.

Mary turned off her bedside lamp before laying down on her side facing Matthew and Susan.

"Get some sleep," she said, brushing noses with her daughter who giggled before curling into Mary's arms, head tucked against Mary's chest.

In the darkness, Mary could feel her husband's eyes on her again even though she could hardly see past their daughter. His form was outlined by a glow of moonlight peeking through the drawn curtains as he lay on his back, his face obviously turned in her direction. She was glad he didn't try to speak, glad Susan was there to deter him.

Long after Susan had drifted off in her arms, she heard Matthew sigh, but pretended to be asleep as well. She wished she could sleep as easily as their daughter could, if only to escape her own thoughts.

Mary had no idea how she felt about the evening, she was still caught off-guard by Isobel sharing what Matthew had tried to keep hidden.

Would she have let Matthew kiss her? Without a camera on them, without reporters egging them on? And Mary wondered, if she had, would she have kissed him back?

She didn't know, but she knew it wasn't a good idea. Too much had been left unsaid between the two of them. Sure, he had been sorry about lying when he'd been caught, but what if there had been more? And she knew there was more he was keeping from her. She just didn't know what it was.

A kiss couldn't erase everything that had happened in the last two years.

Mary being left behind. Matthew acting like an arrogant ass. Whatever happened at Edwards that he wasn't telling her.

A kiss wouldn't answer any of her questions.


	9. Chapter 9

_Greetings! So...it's been a while. I apologize! In the span of (nearly) two years, I finished grad school, found a full-time job (after looking for quite some time), and moved into my own apartment. It's been challenging at times to find time or the desire to write, and hopefully I'll be able to channel my muse more easily in the future. I don't foresee being able to update weekly or even every other week, but hopefully more regular updates will ensue after this._

 _Again, sorry it took so long!_

 _Please enjoy! xx_

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

 _December 1946_

Mary dug her toes into the sand, knees to her chest while she relaxed her cheek on her arms and watched the water slowly come in on the shore. She'd been sitting at the beach for nearly twenty minutes, arriving at the meeting place she and Matthew had agreed upon before she left for the three week-long Christmas break.

And he was late.

She sighed, squinting in the sunlight for a moment before closing her eyes and focusing on the warmth of the day instead. Her flight for Ohio was due to leave at twelve o'clock, giving her exactly two more hours to enjoy the sunshine before she would hurry to the airport and be whisked away in a plane to her family. Where it was cold and about to snow.

 _Snow_. Mary groaned and lay down in the sand, the warmth of it cradling her while the sun covered her like a blanket.

Until something blocked the sun over her face.

Mary opened her eyes, frowning as she looked up into Matthew's smiling face.

"You're late," she told him, sitting up as he plopped down beside her.

"And you've got sand in your hair," Matthew said, ruffling her hair so some dirt fell out of her pin curls.

"I wanted to take some of the beach back with me," Mary replied. She shook her head in his direction and Matthew laughed.

"Afraid you'll forget about it?" he asked.

"That's pretty unlikely. Although three weeks will probably feel like an eternity with hardly any sun and subzero temperatures the whole time," she said, crossing her legs.

"And boring without me?" Matthew interjected with a grin.

Mary pressed her lips together to stifle a smile.

"The break from classes will be nice," she said. "And I'm sure your mother will be glad to get me away from you."

He reached out to lace his fingers with hers.

"Oh, come on, that's not true. You two got along so well at Thanksgiving. She liked you."

She forced herself not to snort at Matthew. Isobel Crawley might have tolerated Mary's presence at her Thanksgiving table, but she thought the Colonel might approve of her more than Matthew's mother did. She certainly wasn't thrilled when she found out that Mary was a flight instructor. Or that she was an engineering student.

"I highly doubt that," Mary said. "When I offered to help your mother with dinner, she said she didn't think they taught engineering majors how to boil potatoes."

"I haven't run across it in any of the syllabi, but maybe next semester we'll tackle it," he teased, his voice light-hearted as his thumb played with her fingers.

She rolled her eyes before turning her head away from him to look out at the water.

"It's like she thinks I don't know how to take care of you."

The words had slipped out of her mouth before she'd really even thought about them, before she had given her brain a chance to say something that wasn't so...truthful. Or blatantly stupid.

"Take care of me?" Matthew's voice sounded funny as he repeated her words, as though he didn't quite know what to make of them.

Mary didn't know herself.

She pressed her lips together, refusing to turn her head even though she could feel Matthew's eyes on her. The minutes passed by in excruciating silence, neither daring the break the quiet that had settled like electricity between them, the sound roaring over the crash of the waves in the distance.

It was deafening.

They'd only been seeing each other for a few months and, while Mary's friends had already started to tease her about becoming "Mrs. Crawley," she'd forced herself to ignore them for the most part. Their relationship wasn't anything serious, or that's what Mary had been telling herself. And now she'd gone and said _that_.

And gave herself away to Matthew.

"Do you...think about things like that?" Matthew asked, finally ending the silence. His thumb brushed across the back of her hand, gentle and imploring. "The future?"

Mary chanced a look at him and she was startled to find that his eyes were intense as he stared back at her. She blushed, an involuntary and damning response that caused her to pull her hand away and get to her feet. She walked to the water's edge, aware of Matthew's quick step as he followed behind her, so she stopped. Cool water lapped over Mary's toes and she turned to face Matthew who was close behind her and looked surprised that she'd stopped so suddenly, his own sneakers now getting wet in the surf.

"Sure I think about the future. It's supposed to snow in Dayton tomorrow, so I was thinking about wearing a sweater," she replied in an effort to lighten the mood.

"Mary," he said, an uncharacteristic scolding from him.

Usually he was the one to joke while she was the serious one, but his sudden change in demeanor had made her feel unlike herself. In fact, the more time she spent with Matthew the more she felt at odds with herself...and yet she felt more at home with him than she ever thought possible, more at home than she ever had before.

"Sometimes," Mary said, biting her lip. She hesitated, not wanting to alarm him or cause any waves before her departure. But she wanted to be honest. "We've only been together for a few months. Do you...think about it? Our future?"

To her surprise, Matthew's gaze softened. "Would it scare you if I said that I have?"

It was one thing if she thought about a future with Matthew on her own, when she lay in bed at night waiting for sleep to come, dreaming of what could be. In spite of telling herself that things weren't serious, that they were just having fun, she couldn't completely hide her own feelings. She had wondered what it would be like to be married, to start a family and a life together. And somehow, she knew it would happen. Or...she hoped it would.

But admitting that to him what another thing entirely.

"No, it doesn't scare me," she answered, truthful, a small smile on her lips. "But I don't scare very easily."

Matthew broke into a wide grin while his hand reached for hers. "I'm not surprised a woman who learned to fly an airplane at sixteen wouldn't be afraid of much," he said. "I'm not asking for anything, you know?"

"I'm aware of that," Mary replied, her heart beating unevenly. "I know your mother would like it if we went our separate ways."

"That isn't true," he replied, his expression gentle but his voice unconvincing. "She's just old-fashioned. So's the Colonel."

"And thinks a woman should be in the home and kitchen, nothing more?" Mary asked. Matthew didn't answer. "And you?"

Her stomach sank even as she posed the query. She had always wanted so much more than what her own mother had. Being a wife and a mother was all well and good, but she knew there was something more for her than that. Not _only_ that.

Why couldn't women do both?

"I think…" Matthew began, his voice unsteady, causing Mary to suck in a breath. "I think I'd be a damned fool to force you to do anything you didn't want to do. No matter what anyone says, you're too brilliant to let it all go to waste."

Mary chuckled with relief, although she couldn't shake that final inch of doubt from the corners of her mind. But for a moment, as she pulled Matthew's face to hers, she could suppress it.

Mary brushed her lips against his, Matthew returning the gentle touch with a more firm kiss as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close as Mary's fingers knit in his hair.

She wished they could stay like that forever, but after a few minutes Matthew leaned back, his breathing ragged as he smiled.

"I have a Christmas present for you," he said.

Her lips turned up in a grin that mirrored his.

"A present?" Mary asked, unlatching her arms from around Matthew's neck. "For me?"

He chuckled as he reached into his pocket and drew out a small oval-shaped locket on a golden chain.

"I know you already have a locket, a silver one shaped like a heart, but I thought-"

Mary slowly released a breath, accepting the necklace he placed in her palm.

"Oh, Matthew. It's lovely," she said.

Briefly tracing her thumb across the outside, Mary brought her other hand up in order to open the clasp and see inside, revealing a blank center.

"It's empty?" she questioned.

Matthew took her hand, closing the pendant.

"I thought you could decide what to put inside it," he explained, a half-smile appearing on his face.

"My other locket has a photograph of my granddad in it," she said, voice slightly teasing. "It used to belong to my mother and her mother before that."

"So what are you saying?" Matthew asked.

"I've decided what photograph to put inside," Mary said, leaning in close again.

Matthew raised his eyebrows as he waited for her answer.

"Gregory Peck," she answered, eyes dancing with laughter as Matthew's face fell suddenly.

"Wha-Gregory Peck?" he questioned, befuddled.

She faked infatuation, fanning herself with her hand as she pretended to melt at the very thought of the actor.

"He's just so handsome with his dark hair," she crooned, bringing the necklace to her chest, "and dreamy eyes."

Matthew snorted at her affected tone, swiftly wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Can I make another suggestion?" he asked.

"One better than Gregory Peck?"

Matthew kissed her again, his lips also his answer.

* * *

 _Present day_

 _Christmas Eve, 1959_

"Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la! 'Tis the season to be jolly, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la! Don we now our gay apparel-"

Mary rubbed her forehead and wished her mother would play the piano more gently. Or that they didn't have a piano at all. It had come with the house, neither she nor Matthew could play it. But with it in the living room, of course, Christmas carols were begging to be played and sang. As loudly as possible, apparently.

Mary's parents and grandmother had arrived in by late morning, their rental car pulling up in front of the house as Mary had sat by the living room window while the Colonel and Isobel played chutes and ladders with the children. The grandmother had been up before the sun, "improving" Mary's Christmas decorating ("I thought it needed a little something extra and the manger scene I sent two Christmases ago looks so much better in the front windowsill and-") as well as making a humongous breakfast. Apparently Mary's own cooking skills were merely adequate by comparison, although she tried not to complain. Isobel did make a mean Crêpe Suzette. And superb scrambled eggs.

With only a warning look at Matthew, who'd been reading an old newspaper, she had slipped outside to warn her mother of Isobel's belief that she had been ill in Ohio in the recent past, to Cora's surprise.

"What was I supposed to have?" she'd asked her daughter as Robert helped Violet from the car.

"I don't know," Mary whispered in hushed tones. "Something you need me for? A bad backache? Pneumonia? Take your pick!"

"I'm as fit as a fiddle," Cora said as Robert and Violet approached.

"Then you broke your ankle because I tripped you, God, just play along. Matthew didn't want to tell them about the divorce," she finished quickly before greeting her father and grandmother, the latter of whom had no idea of her granddaughter's marital problems and would be most disapproving if she found out. Granny had rules that she expected everyone to stick to.

But Mary wasn't so obliging.

"Merry Christmas, Mary," Violet said, kissing her granddaughter's cheek. "Glad to see you gave up that pesky idea of having a family _and_ a job. It was bad enough that Robert indulged your flying. But _that_ was madness."

Mary forced a smile, not needing any more commentary on her personal choices. "Granny, we're glad you could come all this way. I hope the flight wasn't too much of an exertion."

"Not at all, she's a tough old gal," Robert interjected, wrapping Mary in a tight hug. "Who enjoyed her first flight as much as she enjoys a trip to the dentist," he added in an undertone that caused Mary to fight back a laugh.

"So how's being an astronaut's wife?" Violet asked. "I've read the _LIFE_ articles, of course, but they hardly tell me anything I don't know about you. Your favorite kind of pie is hardly surprising. Blueberry."

Mary knew you couldn't learn much from reading what they'd put in that magazine so far. About them and their model marriage. Ha.

"It's not what I expected," Mary replied, giving her father a hand as Robert unloaded bags with gifts for the children from the trunk. "But we can talk more inside. About NASA and how the kids are settling in at school. Susan started preschool, did Mama tell you?"

"She did," Violet said.

"And Isobel can hardly wait to see all of you. It's been so long, not since the wedding, I think?" Mary added.

"Oh, I doubt that very much," Violet muttered cantankerously.

A sense of foreboding settled in Mary's stomach and would not soon dissipate.

Back in the present, the timer rang in the kitchen, signaling it was time for the sugar cookies that the children and their grandmothers had made before putting on their festive show in the living room.

"Cookies!" Susan squealed, breaking away from her place at Cora's side and scampering toward the kitchen. Mary followed closely, if only to get away from the piano, but also keep Susan from burning herself on the oven.

"They need to cool, peanut," Mary reminded the little girl as the timer turned itself off and Mary reached for an oven mitt.

"Can I take them out, please?" she begged.

"No, you're still too small, dear," the mother replied, shooing Susan back from the hot oven door before opening it and retrieving the baking sheet from the rack.

"Can we decorate them with the frosting we made?" Susan questioned.

"In a bit," Mary said, placing the cookies on top of the stove. "They're still very hot."

With a sigh, Susan hurried out of the room, but to Mary's relief the piano in the living room had stopped. Chatter had resumed, but she found herself no longer alone after another moment, her own mother taking Susan's place.

"How'd they turn out?" Cora asked, attempting to be inconspicuous but failing. Mary could tell Cora wanted to get her alone.

"They look like evergreen trees and snowmen sugar cookies," Mary said, lifting the sugary treats off with a spatula to cool on some wax paper. "If a little misshapen."

"We can still tell what they are," Cora replied, smiling.

Mary pressed her lips together, waiting for her mother to say what she'd really come into the kitchen to talk about.

The silence lingered, the sounds of Mary scrapping the cookies off the baking sheet mixing with chatter and giggles from the children and grandparents out in the living room, Matthew's voice heard every once in awhile.

"So, how are things...really?" Cora asked, treading carefully. She could feel her mother's eyes on her, but she hesitated for a moment.

"This was never going to be easy," Mary finally answered, laying a fresh batch of cookie dough on the pan. "You know that."

"That first _LIFE_ story sure glossed over a few things," Cora replied.

Mary raised her eyebrows before placing the fresh batch in the oven. She set the timer again, allowing silence to fill the moments before she spoke. "NASA only wanted men with model marriages, so that was exactly what they got from the Crawleys."

"That doesn't mean you have to be so reserved with me."

She dropped her mother's disapproving gaze, ashamed she'd even tried to get out of having this conversation.

"I know you didn't want me coming out here, not after everything that's happened between Matthew and I," Mary said.

"I don't trust him," Cora stated, simple and as though that settled everything. As though it could turn back time.

"That makes two of us," Mary agreed, causing her mother to clear her throat. Mary continued in spite of this obvious disapproval. "Just because I'm here doesn't mean I've let my guard down. I haven't forgotten about California, not for a minute, but that doesn't mean Matthew doesn't deserve his shot at space."

Another silence ensued, and Mary wondered what would come next, what could possibly be delaying her mother's words. She knew Cora had been displeased at her announcement at the end of last March, had even tried to talk Mary out of it, but she hadn't stopped her from bringing the children out to Virginia. Not when she had made her mind up so decidedly that nothing could ever change it. Not even Matthew could have.

"Don't you deserve to be happy, too?" Her mother's voice was softer now, taking Mary aback.

Mary inhaled slowly, her eyes prickling ever so slightly.

Did she? After everything that had happened in the past year and a half, everything since Edwards, everything she'd done for her children to build a life for them that meant safety and stability, did she deserve anything? She knew Susan and George did. God, they deserved everything. To see both their parents on most days, to know that they were loved, to have a happy childhood.

But what did she deserve?

"All I want is for Susan and George to be happy," Mary responded. She knew her voice sounded forced, and it was, but she had nothing else to say. "And they are happy here. They have friends. They get to see their father again, almost every day. And I get to be a part of the American space race."

"You get to watch it from the sidelines," Cora said.

That stung.

"It's as close as I'm going to get," Mary retorted angrily, but not raising her voice above a whisper so as to not let the others hear from the living room. "Is this what you really want to do on Christmas? Berate me for giving Matthew his way? For agreeing to lie to the entire world?"

Cora sighed and Mary could tell her mother was frustrated as well.

"No," she agreed, shaking her head. "I came out here to see my daughter and my grandchildren. Because we've missed you."

Mary blinked, dropping her mother's gaze with embarrassment.

"I've missed you, too," Mary said, retrieving butter that had been setting on the counter to start on the frosting for the cookies. "I'm sure Papa's ready to wring Matthew's neck."

"It's not as though I told him why the two of you were having problems, dear," Cora said, measuring out powder sugar. "I was intentionally vague."

"And he was satisfied with that?" Mary asked, whipping the butter.

"He seemed to not want to know more and was pleased that the two of you had 'patched things up'," Cora said, slowly adding in the sugar to Mary's mix. "You know men."

And Mary knew her father had always thought of Matthew as a son. She sighed.

Their conversation was put on hold for the time being as the timer went off again and Susan and George scampered into the room, followed by both Isobel and Matthew. While the former was intent on helping her grandchildren ice Christmas cookies, the latter kissed Mary's cheek for his mother's benefit before helping himself into the refrigerator and recovering three beers, presumably for the other males in the living room.

"Did you ask Granny if she'd like anything?" Mary questioned her husband as the grandmothers helped the children divide the frosting into smaller portions before mixing food coloring in.

"Sorry, babe," he said with an easy smile that annoyed Mary, especially with her own mother noticing their exchange as Susan mixed red food coloring into some icing. "Do you think she'd want some of my beer?"

"I think you'd do better with a ginger ale," Mary replied, pressing her lips together in a smile that didn't reach her eyes. And she didn't add a meaningless pet name.

"That does sound more her speed," Matthew said, turning back to the fridge. He tucked the beer bottles under his arm and close to his chin, although Mary sensed a false move would send any one of the bottles to the floor.

"Allow me," she offered, snatching the bottles away from him and placing them on the counter and finding a serving tray. "Why don't you go make yourself comfortable and I can bring all this in. Granny would rather drink out of a glass anyway."

"That's why you hold down the fort, baby," he said, placing his hands on her hips while he stood behind her. Mary immediately tensed. "You're so much smarter than I am."

Her hand covered his quickly, but there was nothing gentle about her touch as she pushed him away. His other hand fell away as she turned around.

"That isn't too hard," she retorted, forcing a wry smile. "Go make sure our guests are entertained, please." She added the request to keep Isobel from getting suspicious, although squeals from Susan and George as they started to frost the cookies ensured there was little attention on the married couple in the room.

"Yes, ma'am," Matthew agreed, with a small salute for effect. After his exit, Mary exchanged a knowing glance with her mother.

 _Two more days_ , Mary told herself.

* * *

"Daddy, can we open just _one_ present, please?" The nearly five-year-old Susan was getting bolder and George's influence was showing.

Susan had crawled into Matthew's lap as the family party sat in front of a small fire that evening after dinner, although the Virginia mild winter was nothing like those in Ohio had been. The weather still felt like spring, even in the evenings, but Isobel had complained of a slight chill and Reginald had decided to show George how to split wood in the backyard while the ladies had prepared dinner. Now they were enjoying the warmth that reminded Mary more of her childhood in Seattle and the past few years in Ohio, the latter of which filled her more with an emptiness than a sense of pleasure as she thought over what had been lost. But they were all together again, for better.

Or worse.

"Daddy, please," Susan begged, pressing gentle lips against Matthew's cheek as though it would force him to crumble like a leaf.

And Mary watched it happen.

"Ask your mother, peanut," he replied, clearly melting at their daughter's request. His own smile at Susan had been an obvious indication, and his tender look was cast over to meet Mary's eyes, knocking her off balance even though she was seated.

"Please, Mommy?" Susan turned to her, entreating.

"Yeah," George piped up. "We can all open one!"

"What a marvelous idea, George," Isobel agreed, and Mary could hardly contradict her mother-in-law in front of everyone else, despite the fact that she found it irritating that Matthew had pinned it on her in the first place.

"Just one," Mary said, prompting Susan to squeal and bound from Matthew's lap.

The two children hurried over to the tree, George helping Susan find the proper gifts for everyone since her reading skills were limited. They passed out an item to each of the adults, boxes of varying sizes, while selecting two of the largest gifts that were for themselves and plopping right down on the floor by the tree.

"Why don't the two of you go first?" Cora suggested to George and Susan, sending the two into raptures as they grinned and then tore into their wrapping paper with ferocity. George pulled out his very own secret rocket test center, something Mary assumed her own parents had brought given the way her father was trying to tell George how to set it up.

"It even has a warning siren before you fire off the rockets, George," Robert was saying as Susan unwrapped her gift.

"Sleeping Beauty!" the little girl crooned, admiring the doll in her blue dress. "Mommy and I saw this with Mrs. Bates and Cassandra. The dragon was so scary, but then the prince saved her with a kiss!"

Mary hated that she could feel Matthew's eyes on her. She looked down at her own gift box and ignored him, tracing her finger across the ribbon that bisected the wrapping paper. Only her own name had been written on the tag, but she thought it resembled her mother's handwriting and wrapping skills.

"We hope you like it, Susan," Isobel said with a smile. The little girl beamed, hugging the doll, still in its box, against her pajama-clad chest.

"What did everyone else get?"

Now content with her own prize, Susan was ready to see the others unwrap theirs.

She quickly approached Violet, entreating Great Granny to unwrap an ornament made of popsicle sticks that the little girl had done herself. This earned Susan a kiss on the head, which allowed her to proudly circle around the room until everyone else had a turn to unwrap and then show off their gifts. Matthew's present was from George; it was a tie he'd selected that had blue stars on a white background.

"I thought you could wear it for pictures," the little boy said, clearly proud of his selection. "Since you're gonna go to the stars."

"It's swell, George," Matthew replied with a grin. "Thanks, bud."

"Your turn, Mary," Isobel said. It was clear the grandparents were waning that evening. No surprise since Isobel had been up before the sun.

With all eyes on her, Mary tore the wrapping off her square box and pulled the lid off. Inside, resting on a layer of tissue paper, was a miniature of the airplane she had left back in Ohio.

Her chest constricted at the sight of her beloved plane, so many memories of flying, of powder-puff races with friends, and taking the kids on their first flights wrapped up in that machine she had to leave behind. It was almost cruel to be reminded of something so dear to hear that was no longer with her.

"What's this?" she asked, at a struggle to maintain her composure. On the radio in the background, the saddest Christmas song, Judy Garland's _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_ , played.

"We're going to have your plane brought here. It's our Christmas gift to you," Cora said with a smile at Mary before casting her eyes to her husband.

"Really?" Mary asked, looking between her parents, eyes stinging with tears of surprised joy. She had gone from irritation to elation in less than a minute.

"First of the week," Robert said, looking pleased with himself. "Of course, I can't take all the credit. It was at joint idea between myself and Matthew."

Mary nearly dropped the plane as she glanced at her mother, who looked as one would after a balloon had just suddenly popped.

"What, Robert?" Cora asked, a smile appearing quickly to hide the fact that she had just been blindsided by her husband. "You never mentioned that you and Matthew had talked-"

"Didn't I?" Robert asked, unconcerned. "We both knew you must be missing flying that little bonanza of yours around. So we're making it happen!"

"Well, yes, I do. Thank you," Mary managed, her eyes flitting to Matthew, who seemed very interested in the tie he'd received from George.

 _Was he embarrassed?_ She wondered, herself feeling a mixture of emotions still.

As Isobel insisted on clearing up the glasses of eggnog and plates of Christmas cookies for the night, Mary couldn't help but smile to herself as she looked down at the miniature one last time before setting it aside to help. No matter who's idea it had been, at least she would finally get to fly again.

Didn't she deserve to be happy?


	10. Chapter 10

_Hello everyone! Thanks for being patient as I slowly get these chapters out. I haven't abandoned this story by any means (if I didn't and it took me two years to update, two months should be nothing). This one is a lot longer than past chapters because...I wanted to?_

 _Thanks for sticking with me as I write this. I've really enjoyed coming back to it. Who knew it would be so much harder to write with a full-time job than it was balancing grad school and an assistantship?_

 _Anyway, enjoy this next installment of "An Astronaut's Wife." Show quotes from Downton and The Astronaut Wives Club are italicized._

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

 _August 29, 1954_

 _Dayton, Ohio_

"Come to Grandma, George," Cora coaxed the little boy gently from her seat on a dining room chair.

"I don't even think Matthew remembers it's our anniversary today," Mary told her mother with a sigh, watching as her fourteen-month-old son pulled himself up on the sofa.

George thought about it for a moment before toddling happily over to his grandmother with a squeal of delight, barely missing one of the unpacked boxes still on the floor.

With her grandson in her arms, Cora was finally content to answer Mary.

"You've only been here for two weeks. Matthew just started classes at the Air Force Institute, and I'm sure he's a little distracted," Cora offered.

"I don't know why you always have to take his side. You and Papa both," Mary complained.

"We do not," Cora said, running her fingers through George's shock of blond hair before kissing the baby's forehead. "Just try to give him the benefit of the doubt. I've been married a lot longer than you have, my dear."

Mary raised her eyebrows, but did not offer a rebuttal.

Now that she thought of it, both of her parents have been acting strange all week. Whenever they came over to help her unpack the apartment while Matthew was in classes or working...allegedly...things seemed off.

"You know, Mama, Matthew doesn't work on Sundays," Mary said, her suspicions increasing as she watched her mother avoid her gaze.

"Doesn't he? Hmm," Cora murmured, eyes remaining on George. "I don't pretend to know his schedule. Perhaps they needed his help with something."

Mary simply stared resolutely at her mother, refusing to look away until Cora finally glanced up from the baby.

"I told you, I don't know anything," her mother said, wary.

Mary had an idea. She stood, smoothing down her hair.

"Well, I guess I believe you," she said. "And as long as you're here to watch George, I might as well take a bath. I know you don't mind watching him for me, and then we can unpack the rest of these boxes. We don't have anything else to do all day and George will need a nap soon-"

"Fine, fine, I surrender," Cora conceded as George wandered off for a toy. "You don't have time for a bath because, well, Matthew isn't at work or studying. And he didn't forget your anniversary, I promise. But-but I'm not supposed to say where he is."

"Mama! Come on, that's unfair! Why do I have to be the one in the dark? Does Papa know as well? Have you all been conspiring against me?" Mary questioned.

George retrieved his stuffed lion and made his way over to Mary, his arms held out for his mother. She picked him up and pulled him into her lap. She kissed the little boy's cheek and he giggled.

"Not against you, for you," Cora insisted, making Mary huff. "You'll be pleased, I promise."

"It's not a new vacuum, is it?" Mary asked. "Because I'd rather have some other eternal punishment. Or better yet, I'd love to get back to work. Oh, is my gift a flight instructor interview at AFIT?"  
Cora rolled her eyes at her daughter. "You're a mother now and you don't need to work, do you? Matthew has a good job and is trying to finish his degree. Which you were able to do in Germany, if I remember correctly. Not that I don't love watching my grandson, but who would take care of the house?"

"I like working," Mary replied, suppressing her own eye roll. "And the house would be fine. I wouldn't have to work full-time, part-time instructing would be fine. I just can't take being stuck in the house, day after day, with no adults around. I mean, I love George, but I always wanted more for my life than being a wife and mother. Matthew used to understand that. But men have short memories, don't they?"

 _You're too brilliant to let it all go to waste_ _._

Cora didn't respond as George let out a big yawn, signaling to Mary that it was time for his nap.

"I'm going to lay him down," she said getting to her feet, making sure George didn't drop the stuffed animal.

"For what it's worth, you're a wonderful mother," Cora said, kissing her grandson as Mary passed.

Again, Mary suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She knew her mother was only attempting to flatter her to appease her ego, but the compliment was moot. It didn't make Mary feel better.

As she laid George down to sleep, her unease only grew. She hoped to God that Matthew's anniversary gift wasn't some kitchen appliance or a new set of dishes to replace the ones they couldn't take with them from the air base in Germany, but she also grew more resolute in the idea that she needed to work. Her instructing credentials weren't exactly up-to-date, but that would be an easy enough fix. A few boxes checked and she'd be able to find something to do with herself rather than wash diapers, scrub the floors, and vacuum all day. Those things didn't exactly thrill her on the best of days.

As she watched her son fall asleep, for the first time that day, she felt at peace. George quickly drifted off and she smiled at how easy-going her little boy was. Mary loved her son, loved her husband in spite of the fact that he drove her crazy sometimes, but she needed more to fill up her life and the hours in the day.

Now all she needed was to make Matthew understand that.

* * *

"It's nice to finally see you in a dress for a change," Cora said, admiring Mary's choice of a blue and white polka dot dress with some matching low heels.

"You informed me I should look nice for this alleged surprise," Mary said, glancing at the clock over the mantel. It was quarter to five. "But if Matthew isn't going to show, I might as well change back into my capri pants and get back to unboxing the pots and pans."

"He'll be here any minute," Cora said. "Oh, I just love the 'New Look,' don't you?"

"You did give this dress to me," Mary reminded her. "Military men are hardly millionaires."

"Well, Matthew will love you in it, I'm sure," Cora said.

Mary offered her mother a smile, her thoughts flitting to the evening and whatever her husband had in store.

"Thanks for watching George tonight," she told her mother. "I wish I know what was going on, although my outfit makes me think we're not going to a barbeque-"

"I'm happy to do it," Cora said with a smile, still unwilling to divulge any information as she flipped through an issue of _Vogue_ she'd brought for her evening in with George.

Mary sighed, chewing on her bottom lip as she perched on the arm of the sofa. If only her mother would give her a hint about what the evening held, maybe she could relax, but Cora was about as willing to share as George liked to share his blocks with another toddler.

As though the universe sensed her curiosity couldn't take waiting any longer, the front door opened and Matthew sauntered inside. He too was dressed nicer than the usual requirement that he wear his uniform or at home he settled for a simple button up shirt and trousers; he wasn't Ricky Ricardo.

Now, Matthew was wearing a black suit and tie, his hair slicked back.

"Getting ready to go sing at the club, Mr. Arnaz?" Mary asked, raising her eyebrows. "Well, I don't want to be in your show."

He laughed, approaching Mary where she sat on the sofa.

"Are we re-enacting some scene from _I Love Lucy_? Because I'm afraid I forgot my script in my other getup," he teased, hands resting on her waist.

"I thought you had forgotten it was our anniversary," Mary said, tilting her head to the side and giving him a look of irritation.

"I could never," Matthew said, his gaze steady but boyish. "I was finishing up my surprise."

"One that led me to believe you'd forgotten about today and that Mama has told me _nothing_ about," Mary stated, stressing how unhelpful she found her mother.

"It's well worth the wait," her husband insisted, leaning down to give her a kiss.

"And it's not an appliance?" she questioned as he pulled away.

"I know you better than that," Matthew retorted with a wink.

She would feel unsettled until she saw the evidence for herself.

Ten minutes later they were in the station wagon driving to their still undisclosed destination.

"You know I don't like secrets, Matthew. So why don't you just tell me where you're taking me?" Mary instructed him.

"You know your 'Mom' voice doesn't work on me like it does George, so you might as well stop asking," Matthew replied, a roguish grin on his face as he glanced at her, changing gears as they got off the highway finally.

"What are we doing all the way out here in Miamisburg?" Mary asked, looking out the window. "We're almost to the airport." She paused, pursing her lips as she thought. "Oh! Are we flying off to some beach? I don't remember Mama secretly packing a bag for me, but maybe you already did it?"

"You keep talking, see what happens why don't you?" he teased, still driving in the direction of what Mary knew to be the airport. She got her pilot's license here when she was only sixteen, so she was very familiar with it.

"Is that where we're eating dinner? The airport? I mean, I don't even think they have restaurants here. Maybe we could grab something from a nearby diner," Mary continued, watching as Matthew indeed turned off at the airport drive, the sign for "Montgomery County Airport" coming into view.

Mary turned her head and watched Matthew, his expression difficult to read as he focused on the road. However, his eyes flickered ever-so-slightly as he turned and failed to follow the main road up to the airport parking lot.

"Matthew," she tried to draw it out of him again, her confusion only growing as he stopped the car at a security gate where a guard sat in a little booth.

"I'm Captain Matthew Crawley, U.S. Air Force," Matthew said, pulling out his wallet to flash his military identification at the airport employee. "This is my wife, Mary Crawley. I believe we're expected."

After a quick look at the I.D., the man in the booth said, "Yes, sir, you can go on through."

Mary conveyed her shock by letting out a low whistle.

"What kind of favors did you have to call in for this, Captain?" she questioned.

"Very few," he replied, steering the car through the security gate and pressing down on the gas pedal as they headed for the tarmac.

"What, are we eating dinner on one of the runways? Because that seems insane," she ventured as Matthew stopped the car near one of the airplane hangars.

Mary watched her husband as he exited the car and came over to her side. He extended his hand to her after opening the passenger door and Mary frowned as she took it.

"Now what?" she asked, looking around the airfield. Was his surprise really to re-certify her dressed like this?

Matthew smiled, clearly enjoying himself as he kept hold of her hand.

"Follow me, please," he said, leading her toward the closest hangar.

The large doors were slid shut on the building, a deadbolt keeping them locked in place, but that didn't deter Matthew. He dropped her hand upon reaching the door, fishing a key out of his pocket to remove the deadbolt.

"If we drove for over half an hour just for you to bring us here to have some odd anniversary airplane hangar escapade that ends in my murder, I'm going to come back and haunt you, Matthew Crawley."

With a shake of his head, he rolled his eyes, casting her an unimpressed look as he put the key and deadbolt in his pocket.

"Seven years of marriage and I think that wit is starting to wear off," he teased with a grin.

Mary pursed her lips to keep herself from smiling, but now that they were no longer in transit she couldn't wait to see what Matthew had in store for their evening. Her gift for him, a new watch she had wrapped in paper borrowed from her mother, was still on the floor of the car. She'd forgotten about it in her haste to find out what was going on.

Sensing her excitement, Matthew paused, stepping away from the hangar door.

"Oh, so now that we're here you don't mind seeing my surprise?" he asked, approaching Mary.

"If you would ever get to it," she said, her retort less serious now that she was trying to keep a smile in check.

He ignored this, his arms snaking around Mary's waist to pull her in close.

"Happy anniversary, baby," Matthew said, his voice warming Mary down to her toes and making her at last break into a smile.

"Happy anniversary," she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Matthew leaned his forehead against hers for a moment before touching his lips to hers. After a few seconds, Mary broke the kiss.

"Show me my gift, Crawley," she demanded, ruffling his hair before pulling back.

He laughed, releasing Mary's waist in order to walk back to the hangar door.

She waited, feeling impatient as she watched him push the door out of the way. She wasn't sure what she expected; a dinner for two where they could watch the evening private and cargo planes take off as the sun set on the horizon. What Matthew unveiled was beyond her wildest dreams.

"Ta-da!" he said, not breaking a sweat as he stood by the opening to reveal an airplane.

"Wait...what is this?"

"A Beechcraft Bonanza Model 35. The Bonanza is a six-seater, single-engine aircraft first introduced in 1947-"

"No, I know what it is," Mary said, taking a few steps forward. "But what is is it doing here?"

"I thought it was obvious," Matthew said, moving toward her, an easy smile on his face. "It's for you."

Mary's eyes widened. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed.

"Not very lady-like," he said.

Mary ignored this, launching herself at her husband and kissing him hard on the mouth. As she crashed into him, Matthew stumbled backward but easily caught her in his arms.

They kissed for a long time, until both were breathing heavily and Mary pulled away, blinking back tears in her eyes.

"Well someone could just knock you over with a feather, couldn't they?" Matthew asked, his forehead against hers again. But he frowned when he looked at Mary. "What is it, babe?"

"I just can't believe you bought me a plane," she said, taking a step back in order to wipe at her eyes.

"Well, Robert helped," he admitted, a bit sheepish, but gaining his confidence back by the minute. "I know you've missed flying. And we'll save a hell of a lot of money on airfare."

The teasing note in Matthew's voice, the airplane, all of it made Mary feel what she had when she had looked at George earlier that day.

Peace.

* * *

 _July 27, 1960_

 _Virginia_

"Susan, George, off to bed, both of you," Mary said, shooing the children away for the final time. She finally wanted a chance to sit in front of the television and watch the nightly news before Jack Paar and _The Tonight Show_ came on.

Summer vacation had been an endless parade of pool parties and forced gatherings with the other astro families so that _TIME_ Magazine could keep them in the press as often as possible. Not that America had yet tired of the seven clans and the men about to lead them to space.

But Mary had. Especially of the photographers.

As the phone rang, she heard giggling down the hall.

"In bed now," Mary called out as she sat down on the couch, tucking her feet beneath her as she reached for the phone and pulled the base into her lap before picking up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me," Matthew's voice spoke through the other end of the line. In the background on his end she could hear music, but that wasn't unusual for a hotel, for who knew how many other guests were staying at the _Holiday Inn_ at the same time.

Mary leaned back, her eyes flicking to the television set and the picture of Walter Cronkite, who was speaking about the current Republican National Convention where Eisenhower's Vice President was being nominated as the presidential candidate to run against John F. Kennedy. Mary wondered if she could feign interest in that over Matthew's call.

"How's the Cape?" she asked instinctively, her curiosity over how work was going on the program now that the men were down in Florida for a few weeks overruling her conflict of speaking with her husband.

Ever since Christmas things had been strange between the two of them. Mary was still uncertain about her feelings toward him, and with the guys training in Pennsylvania and Cleveland as well as traveling down to the cape for rocket tests, they hardly saw each other enough to understand the other.

But at least Mary had her plane back.

"Sunny and hot, if we're ever outside to see the weather. And some rain, you know Florida. But listen, Mary, we're sending up a rocket with a Mercury capsule on top for the first time, can you believe that?"

He sounded excited, and she couldn't help but reciprocate.

"This will be the eighth unmanned test," she said, leaning forward slightly as she counted them out on her fingers. "If they're sending up the capsule, I mean, a manned launch will be just a few months away! Maybe closer."

"You mean a Matthew'd launch, _cause that man is going to be me_ ," he replied, cocky. "You know it will."

But Mary didn't mind it, just the idea of Matthew possibly being the first man into space, well, it was too exhilarating. Instead, she laughed.

"Oh, is it too much to ask that they make the capsule bigger so I can come too?" she asked with a sigh.

"I can't make those modifications myself, but I wouldn't mind you riding along with me," he added, and from his voice Mary could tell he was smiling.

She didn't say anything, just waited for him to continue.

" _You'd be proud of me, Mary, I been working hard, staying out of trouble_ ," Matthew told her, his voice honest.

"Is that so?" she asked, feeling at ease when they spoke about science and the program rather than home or the more perfect lives of the others.

"You know me, nose to the grindstone when there's work to be done. Oh, hold on a second, okay?"

"Alright," she agreed, waiting as Matthew probably went to answer the door. She kept the phone up to her ear in case he came back on the line.

In the background of the call she heard a startling, but muffled, conversation, as Matthew was likely holding the phone to his shoulder and it wasn't blocking much of the sound.

"You've got a double bed in there, right?"

It was the voice of Tony Gillingham.

"Yeah," Matthew replied.

"Well, my room's only got two singles in it. Do you mind switching rooms for the night?" Tony asked.

Then came the voice of a woman.

" _It's not easy being a superhero. I'm gonna help him relax_ _._ "

"She is," Tony's voice agreed.

Mary felt her stomach contract as she realized what she was hearing.

Without listening to another moment of the conversation, she set down the receiver, shocked, but not surprised by what she had unintentionally been privy to.

She felt frozen with dread and irritation all at once, as well as mixed sympathy for Mabel Gillingham. She knew what it was like to have a cheating husband. Hell, maybe Matthew had been lying to her and he'd been cheating on her down there too.

 _Working hard?_ She thought to herself. _But why would he call me just to lie about it?_

It was clear there was some kind of party going on at the hotel the guys were staying at, and obvious there were women a that party, too.

For a second time that night, Mary picked up the phone, dialing the number of _LIFE_ Magazine executive, Dunkin Porter. Mary clicked her tongue as the phone rang and she waited for him to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mr. Porter, this is Mary Crawley," she said, stomach still in knots.

"Yes, hello, Mrs. Crawley, what can I do for you?" he sounded like he was working, but Mary knew he was down at the Cape for the launch.

"I just had an idea. The ladies and I were talking today about the Mercury test launch and we were thinking, well, it's a shame that we can't be down there at the Cape to cheer the guys on," she began slowly, scheme growing with each passing second. "Wouldn't it be a great if we flew down for the Mercury-Atlas test launch coming up?"

Dunk hesitated, but then gave a grunt of admiration, as though it was a shame he hadn't thought of it first.

" _Yeah, sure, that would make a nice picture. Ladies on the beach_ ," he agreed. "And it's been awhile since we've had any space-related content for the magazine. The readers are dying for something that's not a pool party."

 _Aren't we all?_ Mary thought.

"Oh, and we actually want to surprise the guys with our visit, if that's okay," she said. "I can fly everyone down in my plane so that we avoid tipping off reporters."

"Sure, I think it's a great idea," he said.

"Thanks."

"I'll set you up to leave in the afternoon tomorrow, so you can be down there in the evening, how about that?" Dunk said, thoughtful.

"Sounds peachy keen," Mary told him, borrowing a phrase from Lavinia.

"Perfect."

After exchanging goodbyes, the call disconnected and Mary put the phone aside, her stomach still tight as she thought about the conversation she overheard.

* * *

"Remind me what we're doin' in Florida again?" Sybil asked, tugging her suitcase out of the back of the cab.

They'd all tidied up at the airport after disembarking from Mary's airplane, some more excited about the surprise trip than others (Edith complaining it was too short notice to pack quickly when Mary had called her that night, but still arriving on time with her bags).

"To surprise the guys," Lavinia said, cheery but oblivious. Rose was the only one who Mary had told the sordid details to, although Sybil was well aware of Tony Gillingham's roving eye after that conversation in Mary's kitchen the previous year.

"I can't wait to see the look on Matthew's face," Mary whispered to Rose as they headed for the hotel entrance.

"Ugh, this humidity is already doing a number on my hair," Rose complained aloud. "Let's just find the guys."

"Is there a party going on?" Mabel asked as they walked into the courtyard that led to the pool where a large group of people were gathered about, including women in bathing suits.

To the right was the bar, where others were ordering drinks and milling around talking as music played over a radio.

In the middle of the pool was a boat, just a small motorcraft, but one that definitely didn't belong in the pool.

" _What the H-E-double hockey sticks?"_ Rose asked, irritated by the scene before them.

Mary too was furious. This is what the guys did when they were supposedly working hard? She narrowed her eyes as she looked for Matthew.

Tom Branson and Evelyn Napier getting out of a car. They both had briefcases, as though they'd only just come back from the Air Force Station. But the rest of the men were already off the clock and enjoying themselves.

Lavinia and Sybil broke off from the group to meet their husbands, the rest of the women moving forward toward the pool. And that's when Mary saw him.

Unlike Atticus, who was by the pool in his swimsuit, Matthew was swimming fully dressed. As though he hadn't been able to wait before jumping into the water.

He swam up to the side of the pool to fetch his beer and Mary's heels clicked against the cement as she stepped over to him, his face falling as he saw her.

"Is this what you call working hard?" she asked, her glare stony.

"W-what are ya doin' here?" he asked, heaving himself out of the pool, sopping wet so that Mary had to back away in order to not be dripped on.

"Dunk thought it would be a fun surprise and make for a good picture tomorrow with the launch," she lied easily. "You're all obviously very focused."

"It's been a stressful few weeks. We're just blowing off some steam," Matthew muttered.

The rest of the wives were slowly finding their husbands, the whoops behind her confirming that most of the reunions were more joyous than Mary's had been.

But not all.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mary saw Tony Gillingham's head come up from the lower deck of the boat. She knew there couldn't be much room down there. And he hadn't been alone. A blonde woman was with him, although Mary had no idea if it was the same woman from the previous night, but her own stomach sunk as she realized what a horrible idea her plan had been. Not only had she ruined Matthew's night, a small benefit, but Mabel could no longer hide Tony's womanizing.

Everyone would know.

"I'm just going to get a drink," he said, not noticing all the wives about. His arm was visibly around the woman's shoulders.

"Okay, well don't fall in," she teased as he started to pull away.

"Darling, hi," Mabel called out, drawing her husband's attention to her. Mary glanced at Matthew, who pretended to be absorbed in reading the label on his beer bottle.

Tony lifted his head and he looked caught, his arm dropping from around the other woman, but all he could do was wait for Mabel to continue.

"I'm going to go unpack. I'm tired. It's been a long day," she said with a smile, although anyone could tell she was putting on a front.

Mabel turned and made her way out of the courtyard, the tension remaining in her wake.

And Mary knew it was all her fault that everything had happened so publicly, that Mabel was clearly embarrassed. But none of the other women went after her, she wouldn't have want them to anyway. Mary wouldn't have even known what to say to her, they were hardly friends.

"So, this was Dunk's idea?" Matthew asked through the strained silence, the only sound that of the radio playing an Elvis Presley song that Mary barely heard the words of and other guests that hadn't noticed the awkward exchange between Tony and Mabel, the former who was now following his wife out of the courtyard.

"Mm," Mary murmured, noncommittal and unwilling to look at her own husband. "We're here for the launch."

"Right the launch," Matthew said, his voice flatter than Mary expected. She looked up, surprised to find that he looked disappointed.

And she didn't understand what he meant by it.

* * *

From where the seven wives stood on the sands of Cocoa Beach they could see the Mercury-Atlas launch site barely two miles away across the water at Cape Canaveral Air Force Base. Somewhere over there the guys were working on the last minute details for the launch, which Mary hoped would go over better than the last test launch they saw nearly a year ago.

"Who's idea was it to have us watch one of these again? I hate even hearing about them," Sybil admitted, wringing her hands as they all waited in anticipation.

The head journalist and a photographer from _LIFE_ were both on the beach with them, ready to snap pictures and taking notes as they waited for the launch.

"It's been over a year since _Little Joe 1_ ," Mabel said, standing off to the side and away from the group. Mary had a feeling she was nervous about being around the others, but couldn't show it. "There have been many successful launches."

"And partly successful," Rose added in an undertone to Mary. "Yes, I wonder whose idea it was."

"Quiet," Mary shot back in a whisper. She held binoculars to better see the launch with.

She didn't want anyone else to know it had been her hairbrained scheme to fly down here. One that was rather spectacularly failing. But she too felt uneasy about the launch, especially since everything that could go wrong since they'd arrived had.

From across the bight they could hear the countdown over the loudspeaker signaling the moments leading up to the launch.

" _5, 4, 3, 2, 1. All engines running. Launch commenced. Liftoff. We have liftoff_ _._ "

They watched, Mary anxious but in awe, as the Mercury spacecraft left the earth, smoke billowing out as it headed for the sky.

Mary brought her binoculars to her eyes, shutting out the rest of the scene as she focused in on the launch and counted up in her head to gauge the time the spacecraft had been off the ground.

She knew what it was supposed to do, for she had goaded Matthew into telling her the previous night as they sat around the pool talking about the program. The launch was intended to carry out a suborbital test flight of the Mercury capsule and then allow for a successful reentry and collect data for subsequent tests and the eventual launch of a Mercury astronaut (in Matthew's words, him).

"This is even better than the last launch we saw, I'll say," Rose said.

"The guys must be thrilled," Anna agreed.

"Soon it'll be one of them," Mabel voiced as they watched the rocket climb higher in the sky.

And then it exploded.

"Damn it," Mary muttered under her breath, dropping the binoculars as the rest of the women gasped and she watched the rocket explode over the water.

The other women looked visibly shaken, more so than they had at the first launch they had witnessed nearly a year ago. Mary herself felt let down. She'd put so much faith in NASA, but it kept letting her down when she needed it most. She was just as rattled.

"No more photos, okay. We'll take today off the record," the journalist covering their stories, Max, said to the photographer.

"Wasn't that the Mercury capsule?" Edith was the first of the wives to speak.

"Are they kidding?" Anna questioned. "They must be kidding."

"They're going to put a man in that-that thing?" Rose asked, agitated.

The entire group was unnerved.

"I swear, my heart stopped beating," Lavinia said, hand on her chest.

"Tom is never going up in that thing," Sybil agreed, taking Edith's hand. " _Do they even know what they're doing_?"

" _I'm sure they'll learn from their mistakes_...have learned from their mistakes," Mabel said, her level-headed exterior shining through as always.

Mary wondered how Mabel did it, how she managed to be so composed even when the world was clearly toppling in around her. She herself couldn't do it.

"It's why they have these tests," Mabel continued, and Mary watched as Rose's mouth fell open in shock. " _It's fine_."

Unlike the last time there were no children around to blunt their moods.

"It isn't fine," Edith shot back angrily. "That could've been my Michael in that thing!" Remembering herself, she bent down to pick up her purse. " _I better go before I say something I regret_."

And with that, she hurried for the lot and her car, leaving the others to look at Mabel in shock.

Rose was the next one to speak up, still rattled by the event.

" _A rocket explodes, 'It's fine.' Your husband's unfaithful-_ "

" _That's fine, too_ _,_ " Mary interjected with a scoff. She couldn't help herself. She didn't like Mabel much, but she knew she deserved better than Tony's treatment of her and she wanted her to know.

Mabel looked taken aback. "You don't know a thing about it. Tony loves me."

Mary stepped forward, feeling responsible but also a sense of kinship with Mabel that perhaps the other woman didn't realize they shared.

"You don't have to put up with him, you know. _Being a modern wife means challenging your husband to be better_. You should know that," Mary told her.

But as Mabel removed her sunglasses, her eyes narrowed, Mary could tell she didn't reciprocate.

"As I said, you don't know what you're talking about. And my husband is better. We're partners as husband and wife and this competition. Don't forget, it is a competition. So may the best man and the best woman...win," she said, confident.

Behind her, Mary heard Rose snort.

And with that last word, Mabel turned on her heel and walked off, heading for the cars as well.

"Lady Mabel and Lady Mary," Rose muttered.

"I was just trying to help her," Mary said, frustrated as she turned back to those who remained.

"Mabel never wants our help," Anna said sighing as the men from _LIFE_ had moved off. "She just wants to keep reminding us that it's a competition."  
"But _we're_ not even the one's competing," Mary complained, wishing all the same it was her dealing with the fallout from the rocket explosion. Then she wouldn't be stuck here on the beach arguing with Mabel about her cheating husband.

"Not in the same way," Lavinia agreed. "It's just a bake show. It's like it doesn't even matter that some of us are college graduates."

"Sometimes I wonder how baking a pie is going to help Tom get to space," Sybil said, commiserating.

"It isn't," Mary confirmed, her eyes falling on the trail of smoke that led down to the water where the rocket crashed during their exchange. But she hated to admit that Mabel might be right. That was the role they all had to play.

And maybe it could be her eventually.

* * *

The air remained humid despite the fact that the sun had set over an hour ago. Mary sat on the edge of the pool alone, her feet dangling in the water as she looked at the stupid boat that was still floating in the center. No one had bothered to move it from the night before. Earlier, when Rose had asked why it was in the pool, Atticus had claimed when they'd had it out on the ocean that it was too rough and everyone had spilled their drinks. The pool was calmer.

Mary thought they were full of it.

None of the other wives wanted to be outside after the failure of the test launch, and only a few of the guys had filtered back from the station. No one had wanted to throw a party, not after the day that had been had.

Matthew hadn't arrived yet, but Mary wasn't exactly waiting on him. The last test launch she'd witnessed had resulted in an argument and she really wasn't dying to fight with him again. It wasn't like she didn't know that the tests could fail, that it wasn't his fault, but that of the engineers and that they were intended to plan for a successful mission.

Besides, he might be getting drunk like the last time.

Mary focused on making a figure eight with one of her feet, her mind so distracted that she didn't hear anyone come up behind her.

"What are you doing out here?"

Matthew's voice caused her to jump.

"God, you scared me," she said, turning her head as she looked up at him. "I was just enjoying the water. I didn't think you'd be back until later."

"We're finished for the night," he said, placing his briefcase on the ground before lowering himself to a sitting position next to her. He slipped out of his shoes and socks, rolling up his pant legs before placing his feet in the water next to Mary's. "Didn't you see John and Tom come back? And Atticus came back with me. The others are on their way."

"Who knows with some of you. Maybe with the wives here you were having a party somewhere else," she said, tired.

"Nothing ever happens at those parties. Not really," Matthew replied, his own weariness showing.

Mary turned her head, eyebrows knit as she looked at him. "Like when you and I were on the phone two nights ago?" she questioned.

He blinked, thinking for a few moments, his eyes growing wide as realization flooded him.

"Oh, my God," he said. "Is that why the seven of you showed up? You overheard?"

"No," Mary backtracked, "it was Dunk's-"

"Don't feed me some shit about it being Dunkin Porter's idea for all of you to come down here. _Don't play with me. I don't deserve it. Not from you._ "

Mary sighed. "Oh fine, I'm the one who called Dunk," she admitted. "And honestly it would have been worth it if only for that stupid look on your face when we showed up yesterday, but I feel a little bit bad about Mabel. But only a little because she was a nightmare at the launch. Said Tony was 'the best' when all of us know that's a load of garbage."

Matthew snorted. "He's not all bad. Hell of a pilot."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, you better be working your ass off so that he isn't the first man in space, alright?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Matthew agreed with a salute, giving her a grin.

Mary figured that meant he wasn't all that annoyed about her deception to get the seven wives down to the Cape, not that she really cared if he was.

"So what was the problem today?" she asked, directing her gaze back to the water.

"They still have to dredge her out of the water, but a couple of the engineers actually thought we should have waited until there was better weather. There was some cloud cover on our end that didn't help visibility. But it might be that the fiberglass fairing on top of the capsule broke lose and punctured the Atlas LOX tank. Once we've recovered the capsule and diagnostics can be run, we'll know more," he explained.

"At least they're getting closer," Mary said.

"Closer to me not burning my ass off, let's hope," Matthew said, laughter in his voice. Mary shook her head as she looked up at him again.

"Would that really be such a loss?" she replied in a teasing tone.

He snorted and bumped his foot against hers in the cool water.

"Don't even joke."


End file.
